Standing in the Shadows of Love
by Frakme
Summary: Mainly Archer/Tucker with a bit of Tucker/f and Reed/Tucker. A series of post eps and missing scenes covering seasons 1 & 2. Angsty! AU. Rating for sex and swears. Jon wants, Trip needs, Malcolm observes. Complete with Epilogue!
1. Chapter 1

**Title is from the song by the Four Tops. **

**Mainly Archer/Tucker with some Tucker/f, Reed/Tucker. Angsty really angsty. AU**

**Warnings: strong language, sexual situations.**

**I'm bad. I already have a couple of unfinished works published, and another one unp****ublished and yet I let this evil little plot bunny get to me. **

**Also I made use of the most fantastically detailed deck plan of the NX 01 by Waxing Moon Design. Totally awesome site, I suggest you check it out.**

* * *

**Post Ep 'Broken Bow'**

Captain Archer stepped quietly through the door of the darkened aft observation room. The only light that could be seen was from warp nacelles and the stars streaking past as the ship travelled at warp, leaving the Qo'noS system behind her. It illuminated the tall, slender figure stood by a viewport, one hand lightly resting on the transparent aluminum.

Jon was surprised to see him here, he figured Trip would be buried deep in the bowels of the engine room, nursing his 'baby' on her first voyage into the cosmos. Then again, at zero dark hundred, the chief engineer of the _Enterprise_ should probably be asleep. _As should I_ he thought ruefully.

"Hello, Trip," he said softly, stepping up to the younger man, who glanced over his shoulder hearing his captain's voice.

"Hey, Cap'n!" the Southerner's face lit up in a smile that made him look at least five years younger than his thirty years. "Couldn't sleep either?"

The captain shook his head and stood close to the engineer, sharing the view.

"It's just hit me, ya know? We're out here, eighty light years from home. We finally made it!"

The enthusiasm in the younger man's voice touched Jon deeply. Trip's innocence and optimism was a welcome balm to the captain's soul, his zeal for exploration already blunted by years of struggle against bureaucracy, the Vulcans holding them back and the sheer effort of trying to keep his father's dream alive through every set back. There were times that he felt like throwing in the towel, but often it was Trip who kept him going.

They'd met when it looked like the warp program was about to be mothballed. Jon had been blown away when a young Lieutenant Tucker had hotly defended the engine design, facing down admiralty and Vulcan naysayers alike. With his help, Jon and his old friend and rival, A. G. Robinson had been able to keep the program going.

Not only was he impressed by the engineer's knowledge and ingenuity, he'd felt an instant attraction to him that didn't diminish on closer acquaintance with the devastatingly handsome engineer; his easy charm, which hid a keen intellect, captivating Jon easily.

However, he hadn't done anything about it. At the time, Trip had been involved with a young woman, though the relationship didn't last. He'd been convinced that the engineer only swung one way. But only three months after that relationship ended, he'd seen Trip playing tonsil hockey with a good looking, raven haired man at a local gay bar. Jon had felt a burning jealousy when he saw the two of them leave the bar together, Trip's hand wedged firmly down the back of the other man's tight jeans. He hadn't seen Jon there and made no mention of the men in his life, so Jon hadn't wanted to risk the friendship that had sprung up between them by asking him about it.

On reflection, it was probably wise that he hadn't made a move; his appointment as captain of Earth's first warp five vessel had already been contested in some quarters, there was no need to complicate it further by being in a sexual relationship with the man he wanted as his chief engineer. Especially as there had also been doubts expressed about Trip's readiness for the responsibility at such a relatively young age. Besides, he had no idea if Trip would even be interested. He sighed softly as he gazed out of the viewport, trying to ignore his body's reaction to the man standing mere centimetres from him.

"Something on your mind, Cap'n?" asked Trip. Jon smiled at him warmly, though inwardly he cursed himself for letting his guard down.

"Just thinking ahead… hoping I'm doing the right thing in not returning to Earth."

"I think Lieutenant Reed may disagree… he's been pretty vocal about our lack of heavy weapons but for what it's worth, I think you are."

"Thanks, Trip," replied Jon, turning his jade gaze to Trip's summer blue one. "Join me in my cabin for a nightcap?"

Trip nodded and followed the other man, the two of them walking along in companionable silence. When they entered Jon's quarters, the captain headed for the small cabinet and took out a bottle of 2133 Laphroaig. Trip got a couple of glasses off the shelf and Jon poured them a generous shot each.

"To new worlds," said the captain and they tapped their glasses together and drank.

"Do you know when we'll be getting mail from home?"

"Once we're in range of Echo One, we should do. We'll be within range by tomorrow afternoon."

A look of relief passed over the engineer's face.

"I wrote to Natalie, asked if she'd wait for me."

"If she truly cares for you, she will." Jon said. Somehow, he didn't think the gorgeous brunette from Pensacola that the younger man had been dating for the past three months did. Something in his voice must have given his thoughts away as the engineer looked at him with an odd expression.

"I hope you're right," Trip swallowed the rest of his drink and got up. "I suppose we'd better call it a night, we need our beauty sleep! Thanks for the drink."

"See you at breakfast?" replied Jon as Trip opened the door.

"Absolutely, Cap'n," he said, smiling again. The smile disappeared and he looked at Jon searchingly. "You sure you're okay?"

Jon was touched by the concern in his chief engineer's voice.

"I'm fine! Get to bed, Commander!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Trip left and Jon flopped on the bed, thinking of the look the engineer had given him.

He closed his eyes and pinched his nose. Had he given himself away?


	2. Chapter 2

**MIssing Scene 'Unexpected'**

"Trip, open the door or I'll use the override!" Jon scowled at the door to his chief engineer's quarters. He'd failed to show for dinner and had holed himself in his quarters, ever since he'd found out he was pregnant.

The door opened and Jon stepped in. The room was dimly lit and Trip was sat on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried in his folded arms. Jon felt a surge of pity for the man.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"Whaddya think!" retorted Trip, lifting his head to stare balefully at the captain with red rimmed eyes. "I've got some damn alien parasite growing in me and my captain, who I thought was my friend, thinks I've been stupid enough to fuck around with some alien chick I'd just met!"

"Trip, I didn't think-"  
"Yeah, you did. I'm not surprised at T'Pol thinkin' it, as she always wants to think the worst of us humans and she really doesn't think much'a me at all. But I thought you knew me better'n that!"

Jon didn't know what to say. He _had_ jumped to the wrong conclusion and he _had_ been too ready to agree with T'Pol.

"You're right, Trip. Maybe I did jump to conclusions, but I've you seen you flirt up a storm and I just thought-"

"That I'd just forget that I was on duty? That I was part of a first contact? That I would risk losing my place here for a bit of alien pussy?"

Jon flinched at the harshness of Trip's tone and the crudeness of his language.

"I'm sorry, Trip. You're right. I'll speak to T'Pol and put her straight, if that'll help?" Jon stepped over to the younger man and tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder. He was furious at himself, he had judged Trip badly, clouded by the feeling of jealousy that had been aroused when he initially thought Trip had been intimate with Ah'len.

"Doubt it'd make any difference," said Trip, dismally. "Maybe you could mention to Miss High 'n' Mighty Vulcan that I have a _girlfriend_ and I don't cheat."

Jon visibly winced at that and Trip looked at him through narrowed eyes. Jon looked away, suddenly afraid at what those blue eyes might have seen.

He remembered when Trip had told him that Natalie had agreed to wait for him and was forced to listen to the engineer waxing lyrical about the woman, Jon's face frozen in a rictus grin. The close proximity of the man he'd been lusting after for the past eight years had been taking its toll on the older man. On Earth, he could escape from him, take himself off to bars and clubs for anonymous encounters. He'd even gotten serious with a couple of women but ultimately those relationships were doomed to fail. As much as he'd tried to bury his feelings for Trip, eventually they resurfaced. As they had now, only they served to wound the man he cared for.

"I'm going to help you through this, Trip," he said softly, pleading silently with his friend to forgive his harsh words of earlier. "We'll find the Xyrillian ship and we'll get them to help you."  
"I hope so, Cap'n," replied Trip, slumping against the bulkhead, drained of his anger. "Because right now I'm fuckin' scared outta my wits!" His voice broke on the last word. Jon sat himself next to the engineer and took him into his arms, rocking him gently as the engineer silently cried. Eventually Trip stopped and pulled away.

"Jeez, I'm a mess!" he said, dismayed, scrubbing at his tear stained face.

"Guess it must've been those hormones Phlox warned you about," said Jon, soothingly. Fighting the urge to stay, he got up. "I'll leave you to get some sleep, I'm sure things will look better in the morning."

"I can't imagine they'll look any worse!" Trip gave Jon a gallows smile before shuffling down the bed to sleep. "G'night, Cap'n."

"Good night, Trip," came the soft reply, as Jon left the cabin to head for his own, lonely bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Post Ep "Silent Enemy"**

Dinner was a quiet affair, now the current crisis was over and the unidentified ship had disappeared as mysteriously as it came. Jon expected T'Pol to be quiet but Trip seemed far away as well, picking at his food. When T'Pol left, after turning down dessert, he decided to tackle his friend's sombre mood.

"Trip… I'd ask if you're okay but I guess you're not."

Trip glanced up sharply, looking at the captain who had schooled his expression into the concern of a friend.

"Jus' thinking about Natalie," said Trip. "Another relationship down the drain."

"Long deep space missions are going to be hard on all of us," said Jon. "Besides, if she really cared for you, she'd wait."

Trip shrugged and picked at his cherry pie.

"I guess she didn't," he said.

"Then she's an idiot," retorted Jon, more forcibly than he intended.

"No, she ain't. She's just being practical. Can't say I blame her." Jon wanted to pull the engineer into a hug, hearing the sadness in his voice. Instead, he stood up.

"Come with me," he said firmly. "We're going to watch some water polo, knock back some beers and I'm going to take your mind off Natalie." Trip sighed then followed, missing the quickly hidden expression of elation on the captain's face.

The two men went back to the captain's quarters. Jon popped open a couple of beers, they sat and watched the game, both kicking off their boots and lounging back on the bed, Porthos curled up between them. Deceptively casual, Jon had slung an arm along the back of the headboard, his hand not quite touching the back of Trip's neck. A first tentative foray to getting closer to the man he desired.

They didn't talk much during the game apart from reacting to the commentary, criticising the referee's decisions and cheering the Stanford goals. Jon kept the beers flowing and they were both feeling a little mellow after a while.

Jon made a passing remark about the ass of one of the Stanford players and Trip looked at him in amusement.

"You know, I always thought there was more to you liking water polo than appreciating a complex team strategy… all those fit, nearly naked, wet men in those tight shorts."

"Think what you want, Trip," Jon retorted, "I don't see you objecting to my choice of viewing."

Trip leaned back slightly, resting his neck against Jon's arm.

"I guess you got me there," he allowed. "How long have we known each other, Cap'n?"

"Eight years, I think," Jon replied after a few seconds. "Why?"

"It's jus' I didn't know that you swung that way 'til now." Jon stifled a smirk. Trip could be adoringly clueless at times. But then again, he didn't exactly advertise his bisexuality. Although homophobia was something that was universally frowned upon, there was still some institutionalised prejudice in some areas, even in a relatively new organisation such as Starfleet.

"Does it make any difference to our friendship? I've known about you."

"You did? And no, I guess it doesn't."

"I'm glad to hear that." Jon glanced back at the screen. "Damn, I think we missed a goal!"

They both turned their attention back to the screen, absorbed once again in the game. Ever so casually, Jon allowed his fingers to brush the back of Trip's neck. Seemingly in response, though his eyes never left the vid screen, Trip's hand, which had been absently stroking the beagle's head, brushed against Jon's thigh.

The game ended but neither made a move to get up, nor did Trip pull away from the gentle fingers that were stroking the back of his neck.

Instead, encouraged by Trip leaning back into his touch, Jon carried on with his gentle ministrations, his fingers entwining in golden hair, a few shades lighter than his own.

"A spaceman's life can be a lonely one, " said the captain, a smile ghosting his lips. Trip smiled back at him, turning his head and in the process, Jon's fingers stroked along the younger man's jaw.

"Tell me about it… I don't think I've had such a long dry spell," said Trip, his blue eyes taking on a peculiar intensity. Jon met the gaze unflinchingly.

"I suspect it's been longer for me than you, Trip."

In the end Jon wasn't sure if it was the beer, Trip's loneliness or their earlier revelation that made him tentatively press his lips to Jon's, nor did he care. He parted his lips, pushing his tongue gently into Trip's mouth, wanting to taste him. He pushed the thought away that Trip was reaching out to deaden the pain of rejection when he deepened the kiss further, gently pulling the engineer closer, causing Porthos to jump down off the bed for fear of getting squashed between the two humans. Trip's hands pressed against Jon's chest as his own stroked the engineer's back. They broke the kiss and Jon looked into Trip's guileless blue eyes.

"Do you want to go, Trip?" he asked, knowing he had to give the younger man a way out. Trip answered him with another kiss, more passionate that the first. Clothes were soon removed by clumsy, eager hands, Jon drinking in the slender, yet muscular form of the man he'd fantasised about for so long. Though in the back of his mind, he knew this was likely to be a one night only deal.

In the morning, he knew Trip would regret this liaison with his captain but Jon couldn't make himself care. All that mattered as they lay together on the bed, was the here and now, that Trip was responding to the older man's touches, that the engineer's talented hands were also roaming Jon's body.

Sweat gleamed on two entangled bodies in the dim light of the room as hands moved onto cocks bringing them together with a delicious friction. One of Jon's hands moved between Trip's legs, fingers seeking tender flesh and the tiny opening that he wanted to explore. However, he felt Trip tensing when a finger gently circled the puckered, sensitive skin. Jon stopped to at look at the younger man, seeing both fear and desire in his eyes.

"Trip... How far have you gone with a man?" He asked softly.

Trip hesitated, a faint flush tinting his skin making him, in Jon's eyes, even more desirable. Eventually he spoke.

"To be honest, Jon, not very. Jus' hand jobs and blow jobs." Jon's cock twitched at the thought of Trip's mouth around him. But if this was going to be the only time he could have this man, he wanted more.

He kissed him softly on the lips, then along the engineer's strong jaw.

"I can make it very, very good," he whispered, nipping at the other man's ear, his fingers once again grazing that very sensitive spot. Trip's eyes were wide and trusting as he rolled onto his back and spread his legs. Jon smiled and moved down, seeking out Trip's most sensitive areas with his mouth, eliciting soft moans from the younger man.

He got up and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lubricant, showing it to the engineer's questioning gaze. He saw the apprehension in Trip's eyes and stroked his hair, soothing him, though part of Jon was elated at the thought that he would be the first to make love to him this way.

He captured Trip's lips in another kiss, this one sweet and gentle, before once again moving down, this time to take Trip in his mouth. The engineer bucked involuntarily, moaning and grasping the sheets as Jon skillfully used his mouth to bring the engineer close to the edge, while gentle, well lubricated fingers readied him for penetration, stimulating a new source of pleasure that had the younger man begging for more.

He knew he couldn't wait much longer and so, pushing a pillow under the hips of his lover, Jon braced himself to be enveloped in the tight flesh of the man he'd been wanting for so long.

Both men groaned in unison as Jon buried himself in Trip's welcoming heat, watching him for any sign of discomfort. He held himself still, trembling with the effort not to rush the experience, waiting for the other man to become used to the new sensation.

When he felt Trip relax he began to move, carefully angling his thrusts to bring his lover to new heights of pleasure, taking him in hand to help usher along his climax. He didn't have to wait long for either of them to hit their peak, Trip first then Jon as he felt the other man contract around him.

"Wow," whispered Trip, "That was…" his voice trailed off as Jon settled himself next to the younger man wrapping himself around him.

"Intense?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Trip closed his eyes and to Jon's relief seemed in no rush to move.

"Did it work?" Jon said, softly kissing the younger man's neck. "Did it take your mind off her?"  
"Who're we talkin' about?" came the sleepy sounding reply. Jon merely smiled.

He held Trip, listening to his breathing, which slowed until it seemed like he had drifted off to sleep. He reached up and set his alarm for five am. Lightly kissing the sleeping man on the cheek, he settled down to sleep as well, not before softly whispering into Trip's ear.

"I love you."

* * *

_I love you._

Trip wasn't certain if it was a dream or not, but those words drifted around his slowly awakening mind as he stirred from sleep. He glanced up at the alarm clock, which showed a few minutes short of quarter to five. Jon was still deeply asleep beside him, his arm wrapped possessively around Trip's waist. His eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated the previous night's events, a soreness in his rear reminding exactly what had happened.

It had been good, incredible, even. In all the years he had been Jon's friend he'd never even considered him as a potential lover, despite being bisexual. And it wasn't as though he hadn't noticed the older man's good looks and strong, confident personality.

It was only recently though, since they had set _Enterprise_ on the road to the stars, that he had a suspicion about Jon's feelings towards him. However, up until now the captain had been professional and friendly towards him, giving no more than the odd, small hint to deeper feelings, especially when Trip mentioned Natalie, now the latest in a line of ex-girlfriends.

Thinking of her name brought forth a wistful sadness. Truth be told, he'd hadn't been in love with her, he liked her a lot, she was gorgeous, funny, great in bed, but that was it. He had been swept away by the romance of having a beautiful woman waiting for him at home, sending each other long, sappy letters. He let out a soft chuckle; he'd sent exactly two not very long letters and she'd sent him four, including the last one.

But what of the man next to him, his best friend, his captain? He'd seen again last night Jon's attraction to him. He certainly hadn't gone to his cabin with the expectation of sex, he had just been looking for some sympathy and a way to take his mind off Natalie's rejection. But he hadn't been unaffected by Jon's subtle attempt at seduction and he'd felt a need in him rise, the need to feel wanted, to feel desired, so had turned to Jon to fulfil it.

Jon had responded eagerly, stoking Trip's lust which had been starved of attention since they's left Earth. In return, Trip had submitted to him, allowed the more experienced man take control. He was glad he had; it had been quite a ride.

_I love you._

Once again the words echoed as Trip contemplated the sleeping man. Did he love Jon? He liked, respected and admired him. Jon had been a major part of his life for so long he couldn't imagine life without him. But love? That was a whole other ballpark; one he wasn't sure he should venture into. Especially as eyes back home were watching the Enterprise very closely, especially the command staff. He knew that there were some who opposed both their appointments, saying they wanted older, more experienced heads. Some had objected to the friendship between the two men. He could imagine their reaction to them finding out that he and Jon were lovers. No, he knew, and he was sure Jon knew, that this could not continue, not if they didn't want to risk everything they'd work so hard for.

The alarm went off, startling him and waking the captain up. Jon blinked, instantly alert, his eyes immediately locking on to Trip's.

"Mornin', Cap'n," the engineer drawled, giving him a lazy smile.

"Have you been awake long?" asked the captain, sitting up.

"Not really. I guess I'd better get outta here, before anyone sees."

Jon sighed heavily.

"Yes… God could you imagine T'Pol's reaction if she saw us now?"

Trip let out a short laugh.

"I'm pretty sure she'd be reporting straight to the Vulcan High Command if she did! We'd be summoned back to Earth so fast our heads would spin!"

Trip got out of the bed and quickly donned his civvies from last night. He turned back to Jon with an uncharacteristically sombre expression.

"I think we both know this can't continue, there's just too much at stake." He avoided Jon's eyes, knowing he wasn't been completely honest. It would be less painful for Jon than for him to know the truth.

"Trip, wait." He stopped to see the captain get up off the bed wrapping the sheet around himself. He walked towards the younger man and kissed him softly.

"Thanks," he said.

Trip smiled sadly.

"I think I should be the one thankin' you." He hit the door control and left, going back to his quarters for a much needed shower, aware that he was sticky still from the last night. As he soaped himself off, he felt a wave of guilt assailing him as he recalled the tender touches of last night. _Coward_, he thought. _You lied to your captain, to your friend._

But then, that's what Trip always did when it came to relationships; he took the easy way out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Post Ep 'Shuttlepod One'**

Jon sat in sickbay, watching over the two sleeping men. Malcolm had woken earlier, weak and disoriented, naked relief in his eyes when he looked to see Trip in the other biobed. After a short debriefing and with the help of one of Phlox's sedatives, he soon drifted back off to sleep.

Trip had yet to regain consciousness though Phlox was not concerned. He reassured the captain that the Southerner would make a full recovery; he simply wasn't able to tolerate the extremes of heat and cold others could. There was also the way they found them, the armoury officer cradled in the arms of the engineer meant that Trip was more exposed to the bitter cold.

Jon had seen some of the footage from the shuttlepod, It distressed him to realise the psychological suffering both men had endured, first thinking that _Enterprise_ had been destroyed with all hands, then thinking that the ship would be too late to rescue them. He'd seen Trip try to enter the airlock; he was thankful that Malcolm had forced him back down, though as he watched the video at high speed, he didn't know what words the British man used to persuade the him. Despite knowing Trip had done it because, like Jon, he had a strong sense of responsibility for those under his command, the captain knew he would have never have forgiven the lieutenant if Trip had succeeded in his suicide attempt.

Still a part of him, seeing the Trip firmly draw the smaller man into his arms towards the end, had wondered if there was more than devotion to duty that drove Trip's attempt to give up his life for Malcolm's. Perhaps he would look at the footage again, listening to the audio portion as well. Perhaps not.

Jon sat close to Trip, occasionally directing a concerned look at the armoury officer. It made his own blood go cold to think how close he got to dooming the two men to death in a cold, airless shuttlepod. But he knew the bulk of his concern was with his chief engineer, the man he loved. Lightly he stroked the blond hair, a cool cheek, wanting to kiss the lips that had been saved from frostbite.

He was startled when Phlox walked up to him.

"You should get some rest, hmm?" said the Denobulan, kindly. "I will wake you the minute the commander regains consciousness."

Jon got up reluctantly, smiling wanly at the doctor.

"Okay," he agreed. "Just give me a minute."

Phlox nodded, understanding in the bright blue eyes, eyes that were far too perceptive for the captain's comfort. When Phlox left, he gave into his earlier impulse and lightly kissed the sleeping man on the lips.

"I love you, Trip," he whispered.

He left quickly, not realising that Malcolm had woken and witnessed the tender moment.

* * *

The armoury officer stared at the captain's retreating back then at the man on the other biobed. He was astonished, he'd never suspected that there was anything more than a close camaraderie between the two men.

Yet when they'd thought _Enterprise_ destroyed, that they were doomed to die, Trip never mentioned a thing about it. Just a casual "See you around, Cap'n!"

But until Trip tried to stuff himself into the airlock, the annoyingly but endearingly optimistic Yank never gave up hope. Perhaps all along, he'd refused to believe that Jonathan Archer could be dead, that he wouldn't perform some miracle to save them. So as he slumped in the engineer's arms, his consciousness slowly fading, he must have imagined the words, "I love you." Perhaps in his cold induced delirium, Trip thought he was with Archer. Now, in the bright lights of sickbay, those words seemed even more a part of a fading dream.

His own feelings towards the engineer were some what ambiguous. He had come to respect and admire the engineer and even if he did find him incredibly irritating at times, he had certainly grown fond of him. The whole crew had gotten under his skin, somehow making it past the barriers he'd had in place for years, protecting the man within from getting too close to anyone. He'd formed very few friendships in his youth, the cold, regimented upbringing he had made it difficult for him to reach out to other people. His small stature, that hid a wiry strength, and his obvious intelligence had often made him a target for bullies. His earlier career, something he preferred not to dwell on, was made easier by his lack of close friendships. Instead he had associates, and casual affairs with women who, if they tried to get too close, he would drop or they would drop him, accusing him of being cold and unfeeling.

At times, he'd watched T'Pol, envying her serenity, her equanimity and control, often considering whether it would be possible for a human to learn the Vulcan disciplines to master his own emotions as successfully. But then again, remembering moments of fun and friendship with the crew, he didn't think he wanted to give up the warm feeling of belonging his interactions with the crew engendered. He was beginning to become particularly close to Travis, the rambunctious boomer whose affable demeanour never failed to lift his mood, Hoshi, the pretty and clever linguist who shared his love of obscure literature and of course Trip, whose infectious good humour could light up a room.

He was fairly certain he didn't entertain any romantic feelings towards the blond Southerner. No doubt about it, the man was attractive, with not a few crew members plotting ways to make it into his bed. Certainly, Malcolm had had a few sexual liaisons with other men. But he could honestly say he'd never thought of Trip Tucker in that way.

Turning his thoughts back to the captain, he though there were three possible scenarios. One, the captain and chief engineer were in a relationship that had been carefully concealed. Understandable, although the anti-fraternisation regulations had been relaxed due to the duration of the mission, it was unlikely an exception would be made for the captain, especially if it involved someone directly under his command.

Two, Archer had an unrequited love for his best friend, of which the engineer was unaware. That left open the possibility that Trip did have feelings for Malcolm. Even if he did return them, he was in the same position as Tucker and Archer, potentially getting involved with someone in his chain of command could lead them both to being emotionally compromised.

Three, Tucker and Archer, despite their feelings for each other, had chosen not to get involved, in order to protect their positions.

He closed his eyes, sighing inwardly, his thoughts weighing on him. He made a decision to put his observations aside and instead focus on returning to duty. Once he was in full health, he would watch and observe. He would take the time to review some of Archer's decisions to see if there was evidence of him being compromised by his attachment to Tucker. And certainly he wouldn't think about the possibilities of any attachment he might have to the engineer.

* * *

Trip slowly woke up to bright lights, quiet beeping, the rustle and chitters of Phlox's creatures that told him he was in sickbay. The inaudible hum of the warp engine helped soothe his anxious soul as he looked around to find himself alone. Not for long, as Phlox came in to check on him.

"I see you are finally awake, Commander!" said the ever cheerful Denobulan. Seeing the human engineer's anxiety he was quick to reassure him. "I've discharged Lieutenant Reed to his quarters to rest. I'll summon the captain as he'll be anxious to speak to you."

Trip felt a sense of relief overwhelm him, smiling vaguely at the doctor who moved away to the comm panel. They'd both made it, the _Enterprise_ had found them both. He wanted badly to see Malcolm again, to talk about what had happened. He'd been nursing a crush on the armoury officer for some weeks now, since not long after he had his much regretted night with the captain. Their building of the phase cannons had broken the ice between them and they had began spending more time socially together. Eventually, he'd succumbed to the British man's dry wit, single minded dedication and the ass that looked so damn tempting sticking out from under a console, his uniform fabric tight over it.

He'd never thought the uptight, weapons obsessed lieutenant could ever be interested in him and it seemed confirmed when Trip was forced to listen to hours of maudlin letters recorded by Malcolm to his various female conquests, each one a painful reminder. His admiration of T'Pol's ass was just the final nail in the coffin. Yet when Malcolm stopped Trip trying to sacrifice himself, to buy his friend more time, it seemed that maybe he was wrong.

"I've invested_ far_ too much time trying to figure you out, Mr Tucker…" Malcolm's words echoed through Trip's mind, along with the confession that he hadn't gotten close to anyone except the _Enterprise_ crew. He began to hope that maybe he was wrong, that his love might be returned. As he struggled to remain conscious, aware that the lieutenant was fighting a losing battle to do the same, he held the man close, finally convinced the _Enterprise_ would be too late. He whispered the words, "I love you." Struck by the sadness he'd heard in the British man's voice when he'd spoken about his family, he wanted him to know that he'd been loved by somebody. Now, they were alive and he wondered if Malcolm had heard him.

Trip was diverted from his thoughts by the arrival of an anxious Captain Archer. He struggled to sit up in the bed and Jon hurried over to help him.

"Take it easy, Trip." Trip leaned heavily back on the older man, a wave of dizziness making the room spin. Jon helped him to sit against the head of the bed.

"Thanks, Cap'n," he said. He looked up into his face to see those green eyes full of concern gazing back at him.

"You and Malcolm gave us quite a scare," he said. Trip looked away, hit with sudden realisation that if Jon knew about his feelings for Malcolm, he would be devastated. He wasn't sure he could take the risk of destroying their eight year friendship for the small chance that Malcolm would return his feelings.

"Guess we could say the same about you! When we thought the _Enterprise_ was destroyed…" Trip's voice trailed off as an involuntary shudder ran through him. Jon put an arm around him and pulled him close.

"It's okay, Trip, everyone's okay." Jon glanced up to check they were alone before dropping a gentle kiss on the younger man's temple.

"Jon, we shouldn't-"

"I know, I'm just so glad to have you back," the captain said softly. He paused and looked at Trip apologetically. "The thought of losing you, it's not one I want to think about."

Trip slipped an arm around Jon's waist, seeing his distress.

"Now you know how I felt when you and T'Pol went missing on Coridan," he said, lightly. "You know we all end up taking risks on this mission."

"Touché!" Jon chuckled softly. Then he grew serious.

"Trip... we've been good friends a long time but I think you know you mean more to me than that."

Trip looked up into the other man's eyes. _Jon, please don't say it_. His gut clenched, hoping he'd got it wrong. But the night of passion they'd had told him differently.

"I love you, Trip and if things were different... But I guess there's no point talking about what could be."

Those words seem to burn their way through Trip's soul, making his heart ache.

"I wish things could be different, Jon," was all he said.

_If wishes were fishes, we'd all cast nets_. And he'd return the love Jon gave so freely, have a relationship with him, with no risk to their positions. Maybe Malcolm could thaw the Vulcan Ice Princess and she'd enjoy being told she had a 'nice bum'. Trip smiled softly and sadly at his flights of fantasy as he gently withdrew from the captain's embrace.


	5. Chapter 5

**Post Ep Vox Sola**

Jon sat on his bed, idly bouncing his water polo ball off the wall, mildly entertained by Porthos scuttling around after it. It had been a hellish few days and he felt mentally exhausted, from the botched Kretassan contact, which thankfully had been smoothed over with no small thanks to Travis, and the incident with the strange life form in the cargo bay.

The ship was now leaving its planet, having deposit the lifeform back home. He tried not to think about the experience in the cargo bay too hard, it had shook him up feeling his consciousness drifting away, merging with the life form and the other crewmembers. He kept recalling wisps of memory and emotion that he was certain weren't his own; Kelly had had some upsetting news from home, Rostov had been disappointed at missing the film and Zabal kept thinking about a book he'd recently read on the third world war. As for Trip…

He remembered Trip's panic in the cargo bay when he realised what was happening. Despite his extroverted personality, Jon knew that he was a deeply private person. He'd also gotten a strong feeling that the engineer was hiding something.

He had tried to get him to open up after Phlox had released them all from sickbay, but Trip had demurred saying he was going to straight to bed. _Which is probably what I should do right now_, the captain thought. Instead he dropped the ball and got off the bed, thinking he would head to the gym. A short workout would hopefully tire his body out enough so he could sleep.

* * *

Trip ran on the treadmill, trying to wear himself out, when the door opened and the captain came in. He immediately hit the stop button, grabbing his towel and wiping his face and neck. Stepping off the treadmill, he nodded briskly to the other man.

"Evening, Cap'n," he said. "I'm done now, see you in the morning?"  
"Wait, Trip." Trip paused, tensing slightly. "We still need to watch that game."

"Sure, how 'bout tomorrow after dinner?" Trip smiled but avoided Jon's eyes. He was itching to get out of the room but forced himself to stay still. The captain nodded.

"That'll be great, I'll look forward to it."

"I'll be off, gonna hit the shower and then bed," said Trip. "G'night, Cap'n."

"Are you okay, Trip?" Again, he paused, hearing the concern in the captain's voice.

"Fine, jus' a little freaked about what happened in cargo bay. I'll be okay."

"If you want to talk…?"

_If I did, you'd be the_ last_ person I'd want to talk to._ Trip composed himself, flashed another smile at the captain.

"Thanks, Cap'n, but really I'm _fine_!."

He left quickly, already regretting agreeing to the following night's invitation. But he supposed he should just get it over with; the captain could be like Porthos in search of cheese, relentless in the pursuit of the answers he wanted. Still, he had a full twenty four hours to come up with some explanation. He recalled the panic he felt when he realised that he was picking up the others' thoughts and that they had been picking up his. Had the captain picked up his relief that Malcolm had escaped? Or worse, his more than platonic feelings for British man?

* * *

Malcolm entered engineering, scanning the large space before his eyes lighted on his quarry. He approached him, PADD firmly in his grip.

"Commander, may I have a moment of your time?"

Trip turned away from the console he was working on to acknowledge the armoury officer.

"Sure, Lieutenant, what's on your mind?"

Malcolm handed the pad to Trip who took it from him.

"It's the maintenance requests that you asked for, sir."

"Thanks… Rostov!" Trip yelled over at the dark haired crewman who scurried over. Trip passed over the PADD. "Make a start on these please, Crewman and make sure you pass it on to beta shift if you don't finish."

"Aye, sir."

Rostov scuttled off and Trip turned back to Malcolm, who nodded.

"Thank you sir, I'll leave you to it."

"Wait a minute, Malcolm, I was jus' about to go grab some chow, wanna join me?"

"I was planning on returning to the armoury, actually." Malcolm saw the look of disappointment on the engineer's face.

"C'mon, if we go now we'll be in just before the lunch time rush. I'll even let you talk to me about those modifications you want to make to the torpedo tubes."

Malcolm quirked an eyebrow.

"With an offer like that, how could I possibly refuse," he said, dryly. "Shall we go, sir?"

Trip flashed a megawatt grin at the younger man.

"Let's go!"

The two men went to the mess and picked up their lunch. They talked during lunch, Trip keeping his promise to hear Malcolm out about his suggested modifications, making suggestions and criticisms as appropriate. Once again, Malcolm had an appreciation for just how skilled the other man was. He was also pleased to see they could carry on a normal conversation about work that didn't degenerate into an argument.

"Is cargo bay two now back to normal Commander?" The lifeform had create quite a mess to clean up.

"I assume so, I haven't been down to check as yet." Trip looked a little subdued at this. "I guess I'll go after lunch and have a look. Hess did say an engineering team went to clean up last night."

Lowering his voice, Malcolm looked at the engineer with concern.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"I'm fine, Malcolm," Trip replied. "It's just… never mind. Look, I'm going to check it now. I'll catch you later, Lieutenant."

Malcolm was taken aback when Trip got up, dumping his tray with his half eaten dessert on in the recycler. _Was it something I said?_ he thought. Perhaps the commander still had issues regarding his interaction with the lifeform. Phlox had mention something about thought transference but in his concern for trying to free the five trapped crew members, he hadn't really dwelt on it.

He'd spoken to Zabal that morning, to see how he was. The crewman said he was fine, though he had some peculiar dreams, that faded not long after he woke up. He'd told the Lieutenant he had vague recollections of thoughts he didn't think were his own but they seemed to be dissipating; if he tried to focus on them, they slipped away. The Lieutenant advised him to report any odd symptoms to Phlox and left it at that.

He admitted to himself a curiosity of what thoughts the five trapped crew could have shared, especially Tucker and Archer. Ever since the captain's disclosure in sickbay, of which Archer had not been aware had been witnessed, Malcolm had been watching the two of them carefully. However he had not seen anything that could be construed as anything but a close friendship and the captain certainly didn't show any preferential treatment towards the engineer.

He was satisfied that unless they were being very discreet, the two men were not involved in an improper relationship. Nor had Tucker shown anything to indicate deeper feelings for himself, for which he was profoundly relieved. Such an occurrence would be awkward, indeed. After all, Tucker was his superior officer. _And a fine looking man._

Malcolm got up, disposing of his tray and left the mess hall, wondering where that last thought had come from. It seemed as if, ever since the shuttlepod incident, his thoughts had often turned to the chief engineer at odd moments. He ducked into the washroom along the corridor, used the facilities, staring at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands.

He'd always been good at self denial, he reflected. It was a defense mechanism, it stopped him getting into situation where he could get emotionally hurt. Back when he was at university, he'd allowed himself to fall in love with a fellow student; blond, curvy and smart. She dated him for a while but dumped him when a better prospect came along. It had been a fairly humiliating experience for him as she had not been particularly gentle about letting him down and she'd made it plain that his feelings had run far deeper than hers. Even after all these years, the rejection still stung.

Forcing his mind back to the present, he thought again of Trip. If he was honest with himself, Malcolm did find the man attractive, despite his obvious faults. Since the shuttlepod incident, he'd taken pains to keep interactions with the engineer to a minimum, avoiding social occasions. He realised today was the first time they had eaten a meal together since the shuttlepod. It occurred to him that Trip might be capable of a level of deviousness that he'd not suspected, that the engineer had taken the unexpected opportunity to ask him to lunch knowing that he couldn't refuse without running the risk of offending the genial Southerner in front of his subordinates.

He shook his head as he walked to the turbolift to go down to the armoury. Perhaps he had to face up to his feelings for the other man before he could hope to move past them.

* * *

Jon had half expected Trip to fabricate some excuse as to why he couldn't come to dinner. However, he was glad to be proven wrong when the engineer turned up with a big grin on his face.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, sitting himself down and helping himself to a breadstick. "Is T'Pol joining us?"  
"Steak Diane," replied the captain. "And T'Pol is busy with sensor analysis of the cargo bay life form. She declared it 'fascinating'; I don't think I've ever seen her so excited." Jon grinned at the engineer. But oddly, Trip didn't respond to Jon's poking fun of the Vulcan subcommander.

"I'm sure she'd find it anything but 'fascinatin' if she'd been trapped it in," said the engineer morosely.

Jon frowned. He hesitated while the steward brought their meals in, continuing when he left.

"Talk to me, Trip," he said. "It's obviously still bothering you."

"I jus' didn't like the way way our minds were violated by that thing," the engineer replied after a long pause. "I'll get over it."

"You're sure there's nothing else?" Jon looked at his friend in concern, seeing him picking at his food. He always knew Trip was troubled when he stopped eating; stress always managed to take away the famous Tucker appetite.

"It worries me what the others might've read in our minds, Cap'n."

"You mean about us?" Jon smirked at the engineer. "Why do you think I was thinking so much about water polo?"

Jon reached over and gave the younger man's shoulder a squeeze.

"I don't think we should worry about it. I don't know about you, but the thoughts I picked up from the others are fading away. I expect it's the same for the others. Have you spoke to Kelly and Rostov?"

"Not really, jus' asked if they were okay. They said they were."

Jon pulled his hand away, relieved when he saw Trip give him a small smile.

"You're probably right, Cap'n. Let's jus' forget about it," Trip said. "I had lunch with Malcolm today, he's got an idea about the torpedo tubes, that could help speed up the loading."

"Sounds good, what do you think, is it feasible?" Jon looked at him with curiosity. When Trip and Malcolm put their heads together, they made a damn fine team and Jon knew he was lucky to have such talent available to him.

"Yeah, with a few alterations. I've asked Malcolm to put together a proposal for you to look at."

"Thanks, Trip. Now if you're done eating, we have a game to watch!"

* * *

The rest of the evening went past by smoothly, they finished their meal and watched the water polo game. Jon was extremely smug about Stanford's victory, recalling his friend's confidence that Texas would win, but Trip refused to let him bait him. Eventually they called it a night. They left the mess, both heading to their respective quarters.

Trip was feeling fairly relaxed now, his earlier worries about the alien lifeform now diminished, Jon not having given any indication of finding out anything disturbing during their mind merge. He was glad to see the captain more relaxed as well, it had been a difficult few days and he was glad of the opportunity to help the man de-stress. He was actually feeling pretty optimistic. Their friendship was as strong as ever despite their ill advised night together and Jon's admittance of love for his friend. And perhaps it was just as well Malcolm was keeping his distance. Perhaps it would help him and Malcolm eventually recover their friendship, once he'd got over his obviously unrequited feelings for the armoury officer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Post Ep 'Desert Crossing'**

"How're you doing, Trip?"

Trip grinned, gesturing the captain to take a seat as he entered the cabin. Trip arranged himself cross legged on the bed.

"Pretty good, all things considered. Phlox says I can go back on duty tomorrow."

His face still had a rosy glow from the severe sunburn he had suffered on the Torothan planet, the cream that Phlox had given him healing the skin and preventing it from peeling.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Jon smiling back at him. The smile quickly disappeared. "Trip, I'm sorry I dragged you down there, I shouldn't have bullied you into it."

"You didn't exactly drag me down there kicking and screaming, Cap'n," drawled Trip. "I'm jus' sorry you had ta drag my sorry ass... You shoulda jus' left me." Trip was embarrassed as he recalled how the captain had half carried him to shelter, forced water down him and kept him talking when all he wanted to do to was to slip into sweet oblivion.

"There was no way I'd consider leaving you, Trip. I got you into that mess in the first place."

"I let you down," said Trip mournfully. "I bet if Malcolm or Travis were with you they wouldn't have given up!"

"You don't know that," said the captain. "Stop beating yourself up about this. If anyone's to blame, it's me." He looked at Trip, his green eyes pleading. He lowered his voice. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you."

Trip stared back at him, blue eyes wide as he heard the depth of feeling in the captain's voice. He licked his lips nervously, a memory upon him of Jon confessing his love, once again after another of Trip's brushes with death. Another of this man's body entwined with his.

He reached out, sensing his captain's need for forgiveness and his own need to verify that they were both still alive.

"It's okay, Jon," he said getting off the bed to kneel down in front of him. "We're still here, we're still alive." He pulled the older man to him, their foreheads touching, Jon's arms pulling him close. Trip stared into his captain's eyes, seeing the jade gaze filled with recrimination.

"Stop it," he whispered. "It's over, we're safe."

He gently touched the other man's cheek and before he could avoid it, Jon was kissing him with such passion and need Trip couldn't help but respond. They'd agreed that it shouldn't happen again but before too long they were naked on the bed, giving into the heat that rose up between them. Once again, Trip offered himself up for the older man to take him, anticipating Jon's need and his own need to feel wanted. Once again, the guilt arose at how he was pulling the wool over the captain's eyes, knowing that he didn't love Jon the way that he loved Trip. Even worse, his thoughts weren't of the green eyed, larger than life man who was making him moan at every thrust, but someone else. Someone slight, dark haired with quiet eyes the colour of storm clouds. And even as Trip cried out in ecstasy he hated himself for his weakness, for leading Jon on once again.

Afterwards, they lay quietly together, each occupied with their own thoughts. Eventually Jon spoke.

"Do you think anyone would suspect?"

"Whaddya mean?" said Trip, turning to look at the other man.

"If we were together," Jon said after a few seconds pause. "Would anyone know if we didn't say anything?"

"I think Malcolm suspects," Trip said dully. "He's been off with me ever since we nearly froze ta death in the shuttlepod. He denies it o' course, but I know he's been avoidin' me. I tried confrontin' him and he blew me off."

Trip closed his eyes briefly, feeling a dull pain as he thought of the armoury officer, who had been steadily withdrawing from him. He'd tried to get him to open up about why he had withdrawn, only for him to realise that he did hear Trip's fatalistic declaration of love. Trip had panicked, concluding that Malcolm had withdrawn because he was repulsed by the thought of Trip being in love with him. And Malcolm had confirmed his fears rejecting him firmly.

"Oh," said Jon.

"I think he woulda said something by now if he had more'n a suspicion, or if he thought it was a problem."

Jon pulled away, got off the bed and picked up his clothes. Slowly, he dressed as Trip stared at the ceiling. He didn't ask why the older man was leaving, they both knew that if an unexpected crisis came upon the ship, it wouldn't do to find the captain in his chief engineer's quarters in the middle of the night.

"I'll see you in the morning, Trip." There was something odd about the way he said it but Trip was beginning to feel the poscoital tiredness fogging his mind, pulling him towards sleep. He slurred out a reply as his eyelids grew heavy.

"G'night, Cap'n."

* * *

Jon stepped out, holding a PADD he'd snagged off Trip's desk, in case anyone should see him. He walked briskly back to his quarters, all he had to worry about was possibly running into T'Pol with her keen sense of smell and keener powers of observation. The quiet Vulcan woman observed much and said little, though she had kept her promise about not reporting their doings to the Vulcan High Command, Jon was certain she was filing things between those pointy ears of hers.

He entered his quarters and stripped back off to step in the shower, eager to remove the evidence of his recent sexual encounter. He washed himself off trying to take his mind off the conversation afterwards. He'd been on the verge of asking Trip if he wanted them to be together and he was glad he hadn't. Trip was one of the worst people for hiding his emotions, especially from those, like Jon, who knew him intimately. Several times over the last few weeks he'd wanted to pluck up the courage to ask the engineer if he loved Jon and he was glad he hadn't as he now had his answer. He heard it in Trip's voice when they talked about Malcolm. A tight, sick feeling came over him, as he thought of the armoury officer with the engineer. They would certainly make a striking couple, Trip, golden like the sun, Malcolm, pale as the moon yet darker than night. The creator and the destroyer, Brahma and Shiva.

He wondered what made Trip think that Malcolm suspected them, if he had witnessed a tender moment between Jon and Trip, perhaps in sickbay after the shuttlepod incident, or maybe the armoury officer's keen deductive sense had picked clues up from elsewhere and put them together.

_So Malcolm, does that sense also tell you that Trip is in love with you?_ He got out, dried himself off and got into bed. One thing was for certain, he certainly wasn't going to share his suspicions with Trip.

Yet as he prepared to sleep, he made his decision to ask Trip to continue their affair; he was confident his best friend wouldn't refuse. He was willing to take whatever Trip was willing to give. And he drifted off to sleep, a vicious thought crept into his brain.

_He's mine and I won't let you have him, Mr Reed._

* * *

**Several hours earlier**

"You gotta minute, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm looked up from the PADD he was studying. Looking up with a neutral expression, he studiously ignored the tightness in his stomach as he saw the chief engineer's easy smile.

"Take a seat, Commander," he said, gesturing to a seat.

"Actually, I was kinda hopin' we could do this somewhere more private."

"Fine," said Malcolm, after a slight pause. He got up and they left the mess.

"Where do you suggest we go, Commander?"

"My quarters, will that do?"

Malcolm gave him a brisk nod and they continued their walk down the corridor. They entered Trip's quarters and he gestured Malcolm to the chair while he sat on the bed. The smaller man hesitated before sitting down, ramrod straight.

"At ease, Malcolm," said the engineer. He let out a huff of breath when he saw the armoury officer relax just a fraction.

"What did you want to see me about, sir? This won't take long, I hope, I have a lot of reports to do."

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I haven't been avoiding you, sir," Malcolm replied stiffly, avoiding the engineer's eyes. "I've simply been quite busy."  
"That's bullshit," replied Tucker, glaring. "I thought we were getting on well, but ever since the shuttlepod incident you've avoided me in the mess, you never come to movie night and you leave the gym whenever you see me there. I'm not as dumb as you think I sound!"

Malcolm barely stopped himself from flinching at the hurt in Tucker's voice.

"I'm sorry if that is your impression, sir, but I can assure you that is not the case," he replied. "And I never said you are or sounded 'dumb'."

Malcolm kept his face carefully expressionless.

"See, there you go again, shuttin' me out. I really thought we were gettin' you outta your shell, to be more sociable, loosen up a bit. Then you jus' back right off, go back to bein' that oh so proper, stiff upper lip officer. I wanna know why! And knock off the 'sir', willya! My name is Trip!"

Malcolm felt a surge of anger rise up.

"I never wanted to be your 'pet project', Comm- Trip," he said, woodenly. "I'm simply here to do a job and I think I would prefer to stay on a professional level with you."

"What are you talkin' about, I jus' want to be your friend, I thought we were friends, unless-" Suddenly Trip looked stricken.

"You heard me, didn't you? In the shuttlepod?"

Malcolm looked at the blond man in confusion. Then he remembered.

_I love you._

"I didn't imagine it, did I." He looked at Trip searchingly, noticing him go pale. The engineer began babbling.

"Look, I'm sorry, I thought we were gonna die, it jus' kinda slipped out, I'd hoped you didn't hear."

Malcolm got up, surprised at the hurt he felt at Trip's denials. Hurt which quickly turned to anger. He moved to the door then turned abruptly back to Trip.

"I'm not sure what kind of game you're playing, Commander," he said, coldly. "But I'd appreciate it if you left me out of it. Perhaps you should restrict your entertainments to the captain."

He left before Trip had a chance to reply.


	7. Chapter 7

**Post ep, 'Minefield'**

"Hey, Malcolm, I hear the doc's releasing you early for good behaviour!"

Trip grinned at his friend who was gingerly lowering himself off the biobed, carefully observed by Phlox. Malcolm winced as he put weight on his still healing leg.

"I have told him if he can walk to the doors he could leave," said Phlox, passing the injured man a cane to use.

The armoury officer took the cane and carefully walked to the door, Trip and Phlox watching, and in Trip's case, with not a little anxiety. But he made it, a small triumphant smile on his face.

"You may go, Lieutenant," said Phlox, beaming. "However you are still off duty and I expect you back here after breakfast tomorrow morning."

"I will be here, Doctor."

"I'll walk you back to your quarters, Malcolm," said Trip, concern in his voice.

"That really isn't necessary, Commander," said Malcolm firmly as he walked through the doors.

"I ain't giving you a choice, Lieutenant!"

The British man let out a huff of annoyance.

"Fine, sir."

The two of them walked in silence, Trip careful to match his stride with Malcolm's slow, steady one. When they reached his quarters, the younger man entered the code and opened the door, Trip following him in.

"I can take care of myself, you don't have to stay, sir." Malcolm sat himself down on the bed.

"I jus' wanna make sure you're okay." Trip hadn't let on to anyone, especially not to Jon, just how scared he was that Malcolm was going to die. He shared Jon's belief that Malcolm should not be sacrificed to save the ship but where Jon was concerned for a valued member of his crew, Trip knew his feelings ran deeper than that. The thought of having to sacrifice his friend to was not one he wanted to contemplate. When Jon told him that Malcolm had detached his oxygen hose, it took all of his willpower not to rush down to the airlock. Thankfully the captain had come up with a plan to detach the mine and save both their lives. He'd never been so relieved to see them both back on the ship again.

That night after the ship had escaped the Romulan vessel, Jon had visited him in his quarters and they'd had intense, frantic sex, Trip once again taking Jon into himself, allowing him to relieve the stress the captain had endured in those hours where his officer's life and the fate of the _Enterprise_ hung in the balance. Yet once again, Trip knew he was thinking of the armoury officer as he lay in Jon's arms.

The day after he'd slept with Jon, following their ordeal on the Torothan world, the two men had met in Jon's quarters. Jon had confessed that the previous night hadn't been enough, that he didn't want to fight what he felt for Trip anymore. And Trip, resigned to Malcolm not caring for him and wanting to make his best friend happy, had given in.

They'd agreed to be discreet, not allowing anyone to find out about their relationship, no public displays of affection and taking care when leaving each other's cabins. There were times when Trip thought he really did love Jon but then he'd spend time with Malcolm and realise that what he felt for his captain was a pale imitation of what he felt for the other man.

The man himself was staring at Trip with a faintly puzzled expression on his face.

"Are you alright, Commander?" he asked. "Really, there's no need for you to stay."

Trip ran a hand through his hair, looking sheepish.

"I should be askin' you that, Lieutenant! And I'm not on duty, so I can stay, keep you company. Unless you don't want me too?"

Malcolm hesitated before answering.

"Actually, I'd prefer to be alone, sir."

Trip did his best to hide his hurt by giving Malcolm a smile.

"Sure, it's okay. But I'm taking you to breakfast tomorrow, okay?" He hoped he sounded heartier than he felt. Malcolm returned his smile.

"Of course, that would be lovely." He got up and moved to his closet and started pulling out his pyjamas.

"See ya tomorrow then," said Trip, taking the hint and leaving.

* * *

Malcolm heard the door shut behind him and slowly made his way into the head. He showered, dried off and put his pyjamas on. Getting into bed he pulled a book off his shelf and tried to read but his mind kept being pulled back to the man who'd just left. He felt a twinge of guilt for refusing Trip's help but he was still feeling a little raw from his unintended outpouring to the captain. Fortunately the painkillers that Phlox had given him were very effective; though right now Malcolm thought he would welcome the distraction of the pain.

At least he hadn't berated the captain about his friendship with his chief engineer. Especially in light of his recent discovery about Tucker and the captain.

Ever since he'd seen the captain with Tucker in sickbay after the shuttlepod incident, he had been watching them closely. He'd wondered if they were in a relationship or whether Archer had unrequited feelings, carefully concealed, for his best friend.

At first, he'd been convinced there wasn't anything going on, but recently he had witnessed a subtle change in the interactions between the two men. A lingering touch on a shoulder, a heated glance at an unguarded moment, both of them chuckling at what must have been a private joke.

Then, less than a week ago, they had been careless. Late one night, unable to sleep, Malcolm had left his cabin and wandered down to the conference room on E deck, with a sudden urge to contemplate the stars in solitude. Even at two am, there was likely to be someone in the mess hall.

He was about to enter the conference room when he heard voices softly talking down the dead ended corridor that led off to the right. The one that lead to Trip's quarters. The lights were in 'night' mode and curiosity compelled him to use the shadows and dim light to conceal his presence. The voices were too quiet for him to make out the words but he was certain it was the captain and Trip that he heard. Silently, he walked around the corridor, wondering what he would find.

What he saw was Trip and the captain standing just inside the small lobby outside the engineer's quarters, locked in a passionate embrace. He'd frozen momentarily then common sense had quickly moved his feet until he had reached the conference room that was his original destination.

He was shocked, angry that they had been so indiscreet; even though only two other officers had quarters down there, it was not beyond the realms of possibility that either Lieutenant Hess or Ensign Kelly could have been in the corridor and seen.

But he was also aware as he watched the two men, Archer's hands pulling Tucker into him, the engineer's resting on the captain's shoulders, there was another darker emotion; jealousy.

He'd tried not to think about it, tried keeping his distance from the engineer. Yet Trip didn't give up, even after Malcolm had thrown those hurtful words at him in his quarters after he had let slip that he'd heard the engineer's confession of love on the shuttlepod.

He'd felt guilty enough to attempt an rapprochement with the engineer, even agreeing to go on shore leave with him, although that had ended in disaster. And it was Tucker who was there for him, who believed in him during that nightmare where he thought he'd killed thousands Paraagan miners. Tucker, who was almost in tears when he saw how badly the Suliban had beaten the armoury officer after the engineer had ordered him to distract them.

He didn't want this, he didn't want to fall in love with a fellow officer, especially one who was involved with their captain. Even if Trip had meant what he said on the shuttlepod, he didn't feel that way now, judging by the enthusiastic way he was kissing Jonathan Archer.

Besides, if he could so easily switch his feelings from one person to another, perhaps his feelings weren't as genuine as Malcolm had thought.


	8. Chapter 8

"So you and the princess seemed pretty cozy," remarked Jon, deceptively casual.

"I didn't have sex with her, if that's what you're askin'." Trip took another swig of his beer, avoiding Jon's penetrating gaze. She was certainly attractive and the kiss was real nice but when they broke it off, the tension that built up between them had shattered, leaving them both embarrassed. Oddly enough the dissipation of that tension had broken the ice and they spent the rest of the time swapping tales of their individual worlds before laying their trap for her kidnapper. Now she was gone with a fond farewell and a promise to visit if _Enterprise_ was in the neighbourhood.

"I'm glad to hear it," came Jon's reply. His tone changed to teasing. "I'm the jealous type."

Trip reached over and kissed Jon thoroughly. He had to admit, if he had to choose he'd pick Jon over the stuck up Kriosan First Monarch any day. He deliberately pushed away the thought of the man he truly wanted. Even after he agreed to give his relationship with Jon a try, he still mourned his lost opportunity with Malcolm. Still, his mom had once told him that if you couldn't be with the one you loved, love the one you're with. It was only after a drunken conversation with one of his mom's sisters he found out what she'd meant. Before getting together with Charles Junior, his mother had a childhood sweetheart who had died in a flitter accident. A year later she'd married Trip's father, already pregnant with Trip's older brother Dan.

"I don't cheat, Jon," he said when the kiss ended. _No, I just lie and let you believe that I love you, that I don't still pine over Malcolm._

"Maybe," said Jon, "But you do have a pretty fluid definition of what constitutes 'cheating'."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Trip pulled away angrily.

"I haven't forgotten about Risa," said Jon, coolly. "It was pretty clear what you and Malcolm were intending to do down there."

"I asked you to come with me, I begged you," Trip retorted. "And you wouldn't! You insisted it was too risky for us to go together. Besides, I only wanted to make things right with Malcolm, I wasn't serious about getting laid… though I figured getting laid might do Malcolm some good!"

"What, for you get laid or him?"

Trip looked at him askance then shook his head.

"Let's just drop this, Jon. I'm sorry about the princess… if it makes you feel better I didn't particularly enjoy it."

Jon smiled and brought the younger man closer.

"I guess I can forgive you," he said. _I wonder how he'd react if he knew about Keyla_, he thought, thinking about the Tandaran agent he'd met on Risa. Angry at Trip's childish behaviour over their shore leave, he'd allowed himself to be tempted by the mysterious blond beauty.

Unzipping Trip's jumpsuit, Jon kissed his throat.

"You still smell of that swamp, I think I need to get you thoroughly clean." There was a wicked gleam in his green eyes as he divested Trip of his clothes before removing his own and leading him into the shower. Trip leaned back against the wall as Jon soaped him carefully, his hands caressing every bit of skin. Rinsing him off in the spray, Jon then turned his attention to laving Trip's nipples with his tongue, then worked his way down to the younger man's groin. Crouching down in the shower, Jon soon engulfed Trip's cock in his mouth, causing the engineer to moan and writhe under his lover's expert ministrations.

Trip could feel himself getting close to the edge and tried gently to push Jon away but the captain had his hips in a vice like grip. Trip was convinced there would be bruises, but right now all he cared about was the heat surrounding his cock, the sensation threatening to short circuit his brain. At last he couldn't hold back any longer and came hard, Jon swallowing greedily.

He was wrung out so didn't resist when Jon stood up and turned him around pressing up the engineer against the glass, preparing him for entry. Trip could see them both in the mirror opposite the cubicle, seeing the look of intense concentration on Jon's face as he worked his fingers inside Trip's ass, grazing his fingers across Trip's prostrate, the engineering crying out at the pleasurable sensation. His eyes locked with Jon's as Jon slowly pushed himself into the engineer, sheathing himself completely in the tight heat.

"Trip," he moaned, as he kissed Trip's neck. "Love you, need you!" Trip never took his eyes off the mirror as Jon thrust into him in a hard, fast rhythm, stimulating him internally as the older man reached around to grasp Trip's cock, now getting hard again.

The look on Jon's face sent a shiver down Trip's spine. The green eyes glittered, almost lasering into Trip's in the mirror, he felt as though the older man was trying to uncover Trip's soul, reveal it to his possessive gaze.

"Mine!" He growled, as he thrust harder, closer to his peak, stroking the cock in his hand in time to his own thrusts until Trip finally released again.

The engineer cried out as he came, then again, this time in pain, as his lover bit down hard on Trip's neck as he reached his peak.

Trip pushed back, wincing as Jon's softening cock slid out of him. He put a hand up to his neck and it came away bloody.

"What the fuck, Jon?" He stepped out of the shower to grab a towel. "That hurt!"

Jon followed him out, looking remorseful.

"Trip, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah? Well you did." Trip dabbed at the small wound on his shoulder with a damp cloth, then satisfied it wasn't bleeding any more, he dried himself off.

"Here," said Jon, passing over some antiseptic spray he kept in his drawer. Trip took it and sprayed the wound, before getting dressed.

Trip left quickly, brushing off Jon's apologies, knowing he needed to calm down. He went back to his quarters and went into the head so he could take a better look at the damage. Thankfully, it was low enough to be hidden by his undershirt as long as he kept it fully buttoned.

Going back into the main room, he poured himself a shot of whisky and sprawled out on to the bed.

"I've gotta end this," he said out loud. "But how?"

Jon had him completely under his thumb, he knew it. There were times that he thought Jon suspected the truth about how Trip felt about him but was content to take what he could get. If they were back on Earth, he never would have let it get this far but here on the _Enterprise_, tens of light years from home, there was no escape. He closed his eyes and sighed. He'd stay out of Jon's way for a couple of days before he'd go back to him. He couldn't do anything else.

* * *

Jon sat on the bed, head in his hands; he could still taste blood in his mouth. He honestly never meant to hurt his lover but finding him in a compromising position with the Kriosan princess affected him more deeply than he'd let on. He _had_ been jealous, Trip attracted people so very easily and being a natural flirt, would respond to them. When he looked into Trip's eyes in the mirror, he'd seen once again the lack of love, the resignation that the younger man felt and it cut him deeply. Yet, he couldn't give him up, he'd meant what he said, he not only loved Trip, he needed him as well.

The noble part of him told him he should end it and set Trip free but the possessive, greedy part of him refuse to give up his prize. He would give Trip some time, he knew that he would return to him and forgive him. It simply wasn't in his nature to hold any kind of grudge.


	9. Chapter 9

**Post ep 'Dawn'**

Malcolm was in the mess hall, nursing a late night cup of tea when he became aware of a presence next to his table. He looked up, surprised to see it was T'Pol.

"May I join you, Lieutenant?"

"Of course, Subcommander," he said, starting to rise from his seat, but she gestured him to sit as she herself did so.

"I wish to discuss a delicate matter with you, Lieutenant." she began. "I have observed that you and Commander Tucker have developed a close friendship, is this correct?"

"We are friends, yes," said Malcolm carefully. "I wouldn't say we were particularly close."

"Unlike the captain and Tucker?" T'Pol said, looking searchingly at the armoury officer, who was careful to school his expression.

"They do have a close friendship," he agreed, wondering what she was getting at and having a sneaking suspicion what it was. He glanced around the room, relieved that they were alone. "What is it you want to know, Subcommander?"

"I am concerned about the captain's reaction to the commander's disappearance. He appeared to be highly emotional during the search."

Malcolm frowned.

"He was concerned about a missing crewmember! I am sure he would have been just as concerned had it been any other member of the crew."

T'Pol looked closely at him, her gaze penetrating. He wondered if she could read his mind, though apparently Vulcans were only touch telepaths.

He held her gaze, resisting the urge to swallow nervously. He knew she was right, the captain had been frantic to find Trip. It seemed to him she suspected something about their relationship. _So why not tell her? Why not tell her that Archer is fucking his chief engineer and best friend?_ He had come to respect the Vulcan, especially after her defence of their mission in the wake of the Paraagan tragedy. She had caught them all by surprise when she had spoke up for Archer and Humans in general.

Something held him back though, wondering what she would do with the infomation. The two men were unaware that he knew of their relationship, though there had been a couple of times when he was tempted to broach it with Tucker, the burden of knowledge weighing him down. Perhaps he could confide in the Vulcan instead. Then again, perhaps not.

"Would you characterise his reaction to the situation to be normal for the captain, then?"

Reflecting on his experience with the Romulan mine, he felt confident about his answer.

"Yes, Subcommander," he said, firmly. "Captain Archer cares about each and every member of this crew."

She seemed to digest what he said.

"The captain is a man of deep feeling," she concluded. "He acquitted himself well in his interactions with the Arkonians, as did Commander Tucker. Such actions lend weight to why you Humans do belong out here. I thank you for your insights, Lieutenant." She got up and with a small nod, she left, leaving Malcolm staring at her in puzzlement. He had the nagging feeling that he may have given more away than he intended but he couldn't be sure.

Maybe he did need to tell Trip what he knew, if only to warn him that he and the captain should be careful around T'Pol. Although she had defended their mission, her logic would dictate that if she felt the captain was emotionally compromised, she would be compelled to act, with potentially disastrous consequences for the mission. The end of the mission was not something he wanted to contemplate. Enterprise was his home; there was nothing left for him on Earth, nothing that he wanted anyway.

Deciding now was as good as time as any, he went in search of the engineer.

* * *

Trip woke abruptly, hearing the door chime. Was it Jon? He'd asked him not to come around tonight as he was still exhausted, having had poor sleep in sickbay for the past three nights, due to the sunburn treatments and the cacophony from Phlox's menagerie. He pulled on sweatpants over his blues and opened the door to find the armoury officer standing there.

"Wassa matter, Malcolm?" he said, irritated. "I was asleep!"

"I'm sorry to disturb you sir, but I was hoping I might speak to you?"

Trip silently gestured him to enter.

"How are you feeling, commander?"

"Tired," Trip replied, pointedly. "Sick of being fried and frozen and fried again. Glad I'm finally outta sickbay. I'll back on duty tomorrow though." He felt his irritation ease as he saw Malcolm smirk.

"Good to hear," the British man said. "Engineering is never the same without you."

Trip smiled at Malcolm, almost shyly, aware of a small fluttering in his belly, completely unwarranted by the off hand comment.

"Nice of you to say, Lieutenant!" He gestured at the desk chair. "Take a load off. Don't take it the wrong way but tell me what you're here for and make it quick, you know-"

"You get cranky when you don't get enough sleep," finished Malcolm. "I remember." The fluttering in Trip's belly grew a little more frantic.

He sat on the bed as the other man sat on the chair. Malcolm looked at him steadily.

"There's something I need to tell you, Comm- Trip. As a friend."

The engineer felt the butterflies metamorphosise into elephants. He said nothing, waiting for the younger man to continue.

"I want you to know that I don't intend to repeat what I'm about to tell you to anyone… but other eyes have been taking an interest.

"An interest in what? Whose eyes?" Trip was now feeling distinctly nervous.

"I know about you and the captain." Though softly spoken, the words impacted on Tucker like a phase pistol blast. He froze then stood up.

"What do you think you know," he said, his voice shaking slightly. _Fuck, fuck, I've gotta tell Jon!_

"I know that you and the captain are involved in a relationship. I saw the two of you outside your quarters."

Trip closed his eyes briefly. It was a few weeks ago, he'd seen Jon out of the door of his quarters. They'd been drinking and Jon had been slightly drunk. Trip had teased him, asking him if he needed an escort and Jon had impulsively pulled him into a passionate kiss. Caught by surprise, Trip had responded then remembering where they were, dragged them both back into his quarters.

"What are you going to do about it?" Trip was mortified, Malcolm was the _last_ person he wanted to find out.

"I don't think I need to do anything, except to warn you to be more discreet. T'Pol was asking me some very probing questions about the two of you."

"Fuck." He looked at Malcolm. "I guess I should thank you for telling me."

Malcolm nodded.

"Just answer me one question, Commander. How long has it being going on?"

Trip licked his lips nervously.

"We've been together since the Torothan desert planet," he said quietly. "But since we slept together a few days after your birthday party last year, I guess technically you could say we've been together since then."

"Just over a year then. I must say I'm impressed; you've never been very good at keeping secrets, or so I thought."

Trip winced at the slight rebuke in Malcolm's voice.

"We didn't have much of a choice but to keep it quiet."

"You had a choice, you could've not fu- slept with him in the first place!"

Trip sat down heavily, burying his face in his hands. He looked back up, despair written all over face.

"You don't understand, I owe Jon so much! He saved my life more'n once. And he loves me, really loves me." _Unlike you_, he thought sadly.

"What about you, Trip?" Trip heard the concern in the lieutenant's voice.

"He's my best friend... and I love him. I'm jus' not _in_ love with him."

He looked down at the floor shocked at his disclosure, his betrayal of Jon.

He felt the bed shift, as Malcolm sat on the bed next to him.

"This is why anti-fraternisation regs exist, Trip. To avoid someone of a superior rank from coercing a subordinate."

Trip jumped up, agitated.

"It's not like that, Jon ain't forcin' me to do anythin'."

"But if you had a choice..." Malcolm looked at Trip expectantly.

"Please leave, Lieutenant," he said softly.

"Trip-"

The engineer's hands curled in to fists and he held himself rigid.

"You've said yer piece, now get out!"

Trip closed his eyes and didn't open them until he heard the door shut, signalling the other man's departure.

"Damn you, Malcolm," he whispered his eyes burning with unshed tears. It hurt, being forced to face up to the truth about his relationship with Jon. But it hurt worse to be reminded why Malcolm would never be his.

_That's why anti-fraternisation regs exist..._

Without even thinking about it, he found himself leaving his quarters, blindly walking down the corridors until he found himself outside Jon's. The door opened when he announced himself. The captain looked surprised to see him there.

"C'mon in, Trip," he said. "I wasn't expecting you, I thought you were tired?" Concern was evident in his eyes and Trip had to work hard to conceal his anguish. But not successfully as Jon pulled him into his arms.

"What's wrong? Talk to me, Trip."

Trip buried his face in Jon's shoulder, allowing the older man to comfort him as he brought himself back under control.

"I'm okay, I jus' need ya right now."

Jon kissed the top of Trip's head and led him to his bed.

"I'm here for you, you know that."

They sat down together in silence, Jon wrapping his arm around the engineer.

"Malcolm knows 'bout us. He came 'round tonight to tell me and to warn that T'Pol suspects as well."

Jon looked resigned.

"I guess it's inevitable on a ship of this size... What's Malcolm going to do about it?" Trip heard the anxiety in the captain's voice.

'I don't think he'll do anything," said Trip. There was no way he'd tell Jon what Malcolm said. _He's wrong, I'm here by choice._

Trip pulled away from Jon's embrace and stood up. He pulled off his sweatpants, took off his blues then knelt naked between his lover's legs. He saw the concern in Jon's eyes turn to desire and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Jon eagerly responded, his hands roaming Trip's body. The engineer broke the kiss to remove Jon's T-shirt, then pushed him on the bed so he could remove his boxers. He straddled the older man, bringing their hardening cocks into contact as he leaned down to capture Jon's lips in a searing kiss, pinning him to the bed by grasping his wrists.

"What's brought this on? Not that I'm complaining; I thought you were too tired?" Jon asked when Trip broke this kiss.

"Guess I weren't as tired as I thought," said Trip. "Jus' glad to be alive... Thanks to you."

_I am here through choice, Malcolm. The cap'n ain't forcing me to do anything I don't want._ He ignored the little voice that told him he was coercing himself.

Instead he turned his attention to his lover, ruthless searching out all of his sensitive spots with his mouth, making Jon moan and twist under the engineer's strong grip.

Part of him revelled at having the captain, a out and out alpha male, in his control but part of him still felt ashamed at using the older man. He'd become dependent on him, Trip realised. Jon was his safety net; he'd always be there to protect Trip, to be his shoulder to cry on, to temper his recklessness, that streak of selfishness and self destruction that he hid beneath his good ole Southern boy persona.

He leaned back, pulling Jon into a sitting position. He turned around and reached for the lube that Jon kept in a drawer next to his bed. Jon wrapped himself around the engineer, kissing his neck, one hand reaching around to tease his nipples the other to stroke his cock. Trip took away the hand that was stroking his cock and liberally coated it with lube. He leaned forward, on his hands and knees, spreading his legs, offering himself. He groaned as Jon prepared him, thrusting back onto the fingers stretching him.

"More, Jon," he moaned as sparks flew up his spine as clever fingers stimulated him internally.

Jon withdrew his fingers and Trip reached around to seek out Jon's cock, pushing himself up onto his haunches. With a cry he impaled himself, wincing slightly at the burn as Jon's length filled him completely.

"Trip," Jon moaned, wanting to thrust but pinned by Trip's weight, "Please, I need you to move."

Trip obliged, his legs shaking with the effort of pulling himself up and down. He fell forward onto his arms, giving himself the extra leverage he needed, allowing Jon to thrust up as well.

The room was filled with the soft moans of both men, the slap of flesh against flesh as they both hurried towards completion, Jon taking Trip in hand. Trip closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensation of Jon, filling him completely as he sank down, then sliding out as he rose up.

Pleasure was rising up through him, blotting out thoughts of Malcolm and T'Pol and all the reasons he shouldn't be here. It was Jon and Trip at this moment, riding a wave of passion that was overwhelming.

Trip came first, crying out Jon's name, Jon following, as he felt the other man clench hard around his cock. Trip collapsed forward breathing hard. Jon pulled himself out from under the engineer.

"Trip are you okay?" he said, stroking the engineer's back.

"Tired," he slurred. He got up and positioned himself so he was lying next to the captain, wrapping himself around the older man, his head resting on Jon's chest. He didn't have the energy to clean himself up, ignoring the warm trickle from his ass and the stickiness on his stomach.

He closed his eyes and was soon asleep.

* * *

Jon lay awake while, holding the sleeping man in his arms, stroking his hair. Trip was hiding something from him again, he'd seen the hurt and desperation in his eyes when he stood at the door. As always, it was Jon's job to save Trip from himself. The crew might see him as a genius engineer, the life and soul of the party, the ship's unofficial morale officer but he had a darker side, thoughtless, selfish and needy. Only Jon had ever seen that side of him.

On duty he was a consummate professional and the captain was proud to see him display those instincts and flashes of brilliance that could make Commander Tucker into a fine ship's captain. Not that he wanted command; Trip had always made it clear he was happiest with his beloved warp engine and spoke of his hope of going into research once their mission had finished. He'd already been taking part in discussions with R&D about a possible warp seven engine, drawing on the knowledge he had gained from working with Enterprise's warp five engine.

His fingers traced Trip's jaw, feeling the stubble just starting to grow there. His mind drifted to his revelation of earlier, he wondered if Malcolm would say something to him. He didn't think he would though, he would just watch them carefully with an air of disapproval. He couldn't help wonder what else had been said, that had driven Trip in despair to his door.

Part of him was almost relieved that someone knew. Maybe if T'Pol already had suspicions about them, it would be best to come clean. He and the Vulcan had come to an understanding, based on mutual respect. They'd become closer, trusting each other more, even confiding in each other in a way he'd never dreamed of back when she first came on board his ship.

Still, it was a risk. No doubt she, as a Vulcan, would find sex illogical when not for the purpose of procreation, homosexual relations doubly so.

Reaching up to set the alarm, he kissed his sleeping lover and closed his eyes to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Post ep 'Canamar'**

"Are you sure you have enough there, Commander?" said Malcolm, eyeing Trip's heavy loaded tray.

"I think so, Lieutenant," replied Trip as he sat himself down uninvited at Malcolm's table. "Makin' up for lost time."

"Food on that prison transport not up to scratch?" the British man's mouth twisted in a sardonic smile.

"You can't imagine!"

The Lieutenant thought back to his own times in alien custody.

"I'm pretty sure I can," he replied dryly. Trip had the grace to look abashed, before flashing a charming smile at his dinner companion. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the huge forkful of mashed potato and gravy Trip had just shovelled in.

_He really does have the most appalling table manners_, Malcolm thought as he absently reached over to wipe a dribble of gravy from the engineer's chin. Startled by what he realised was quite an intimate gesture, he pulled away abruptly.

"Slow down, Commander," he said, in an attempt to cover his embarrassment. "You'll get hiccups."

Trip took a swallow from his glass of milk, then continued to attack his meal with gusto, leaving Malcolm staring at him in a mixture of fascination and revulsion. _Marvellous to think that the captain actually leaves this man in charge of the ship sometimes_, he thought with a surprising surge of affection.

When Trip finished, he pushed his tray aside and looked steadily at his friend.

"I wanna thank you, Lieutenant, for not givin' up on me and the cap'n."

"You and the captain would have done the same for me or any other member of the crew," he replied.

"Damn straight," Trip agreed, looking intently at Malcolm.

"Subcommander T'Pol was also instrumental in your rescue as well."

"I know, I've already thanked her. I jus' feel sometimes, that maybe we don't appreciate you enough."

"I know I don't think you _listen_ to me enough!"

Trip grinned sheepishly at the acerbic reply. Then his grin vanished.

"If you'd been along, they woulda got ya too, Malcolm. Least it was just me and the cap'n who were caught."

"Two of the most important people on the ship!"

"And you'd make three!" Trip retorted back. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "The cap'n's not gonna change, you know. Jus' keep on making those suggestions and maybe one day he'll listen when it really counts." He stood and picked up the tray.

"Are you going to see him now?" Malcolm cursed himself the minute the words came out, and again when he saw the closed expression on Trip's face.

"Yeah, I am," he said softly. "We haven't had a chance to talk since we got back."

Malcolm nodded, hiding his disappointment. Ever since he'd revealed his knowledge of the captain and Trip's relationship, they had been very circumspect about their behaviour, remaining completely professional at all times. He'd even wondered if, after hearing a few home truths, Trip had found the courage to end it. But judging by Trip's reaction to his question, he hadn't.

"Yes, you should _debrief_," said Malcolm, equally softly. Trip glared at him.

"Just don't, Malcolm. You've said yer piece already and it hasn't changed a damned thing."

Malcolm opened his mouth to say something more but then closed it as he realised they were starting to attract attention from other people in the mess hall. Trip, in the meantime, had spun on his heel, dumped his tray in the recycler and stormed off.

He looked down at the remains of his meal. _I suppose I asked for that_, he thought. It was unfair to taunt Trip in that way, maybe he didn't approve of his relationship but he could still be a friend to the engineer. _And let's be honest, you did it out of jealousy_. Which made it worse , as far as he was concerned; he didn't think he would act on his feelings for Trip, even if he thought they were returned. And for all the reasons he disapproved of Trip and the captain.

His heart sank as Hoshi came over, an inquisitive look on her face.

"Is it everything okay, Lieutenant?" she asked, concerned.

"Fine, Ensign. The commander and I are were simply having a minor disagreement. Nothing that should concern you."

"If you're sure?" The beautiful Japanese woman looked at him with compassion in her dark eyes. "You know, if you ever want to talk..?"

Malcolm tensed. What was Hoshi getting at? She meant well and he was fond of the young woman who had seemed so ill-equipped for life at in deep space when she first came on board. He managed a small smile at her.

"Thank you, Hoshi. I'll keep that in mind." Not that he would ever take her up on her offer. It wouldn't be appropriate. He left the mess hall, a wave of loneliness sweeping over him.

* * *

Trip marched quickly back to his quarters, his face burning. He couldn't believe Malcolm, baiting him like that in the middle of the damn_ mess hall_ of all places! Maybe he was trying to force Trip into exposing himself to the crew. Entering his quarters, he took a deep breath to try and calm down.

It still hurt to think of the conversation he had with Malcolm about Jon. Now instead of the armoury officer trying to avoid him he'd been trying to avoid the armoury officer, desperately trying to forget how he felt about the other man and concentrate on his relationship with Jon. Oddly enough their experience on the prison transport had served to remind him of the easy friendship they'd had before love and sex had gotten in the way. As they realised they were about to be boarded, Jon warned Trip that no hint of their intimate relationship should be apparent, for fear it would be used against them.

So as they plotted and schemed a way to escape the transport ship, it had been like the old days. Jon masterminding a plan and Trip carrying out the details, though not without winding up a few people in the process, wincing as he remembered the Nausicaan. They'd been successful, thanks to the _Enterprise_'s timely rescue. Jon hadn't give up hope that T'Pol would not leave a stone unturned to find them.

Funny his faith in the Vulcan; the captain wouldn't have thought that way a year ago. Sometimes though, it felt as if she had supplanted Trip's place as his best friend and confidante. It bothered him a great deal, as it felt as though that being Jon's lover had relegated him to a lower status in his life.

Trip shook his head and went into the head to use the facilities. Coming out, he heard Jon calling him on the comm.

"Tucker here," he said, thumbing the open button on the comm.

"You coming over? Got a drink here waiting for you."

"On my way."

He grabbed a PADD off his desk. He and Jon always had one when going to each others' quarters. _Gotta make it look like we're on ship's business._

He entered at Jon's command to find Jon sitting at his desk, looking pensive.

"You okay, Cap'n?" asked Trip, placing a hand on his shoulder. Jon reached up and gave the hand a squeeze.

"I've just sent my report to Command about the Enolians. Needless to say, I've recommended we give them a wide berth."

Trip grimaced.

"For such an advanced species they sure have a very primitive view of justice."

"It does make me wonder, I remember reading something by Arthur C Clarke as a kid, he hypothesised that the more advanced a species is in terms of technology, the more advanced they need to be in terms of morality. It seems that this isn't necessarily true. I can't help but feel that although we shouldn't judge a species by human standards, that there must be some basic tenets that all sentient species have in common."

"Like a sense of fair play and justice?" Trip moved his hand as Jon got up to pace the room.

"Exactly. It bothers me, Trip. First contacts are a minefield and our human standards are all we have to go by."

"My mama used to say 'Don't have your mind so open that yer brain falls out'. It's healthy to have a little scepticism, to reserve some judgement, Jon."

Jon stopped pacing and stared out of the viewport, Trip moving to stand next to him.

"Don't start doubtin' yerself now, Cap'n." he said. "You're out here because you're the best we've got. I know damn well we'd never have gotten off that transport if you hadn't believed we would. I got faith in you, jus' have some in yerself."

Jon looked at Trip, touched by the honest affection and trust in Trip's voice.

He pulled the younger man towards him and kissed him, suddenly overwhelmed with the love he felt for Trip. He knew damn well that his lover had been an added incentive in getting off that ship. Trip responded and they began to move over to the bed, clothes being removed and chucked carelessly onto the floor as they did so. When they were down to their blues, Jon stopped and grabbed the drinks he'd poured earlier.

He raised his glass.

"Here's to a positive first contact… the sooner the better!"

"Hear, hear!" echoed Trip as they clinked glasses and swallowed the whisky down. They put down their glasses and Trip, pushing Jon onto the bed and kneeling on the floor in front of him, grinned wickedly.

"I'm aiming for a positive contact right now!" He kissed Jon on the mouth before pulling off Jon's t-shirt and turning his attention to Jon's nipples, licking and sucking them into hardness. His hands worked their way under Jon's briefs. Jon lifted himself up so Trip could pull them off. He leaned back on his arms as Trip worked his way down Jon's chest and flat stomach, making the older man gasp as Trip pushed his tongue into his navel. Trip stroked Jon's thighs working his way upwards before turning his attention away from Jon's navel to engulf his cock. Jon let out a moan as Trip's talented mouth tormented him with deep sucks and long slow licks, his hands tenderly caressing his balls.

"I'm close, Trip," he warned as he felt the pressure build up in him. Trip didn't stop, instead increasing the pace of his ministrations.

"T'Pol, to Archer." The moment was shattered by the cool voice over the comm, Trip abruptly releasing Jon as the captain bolted upright. He scrambled for the comm button, trying to control his breathing.

"Archer, what's up?" he said curtly.

There was a slight pause before T'Pol replied.

"We've detected unusual readings from a planetary nebula approximately half a light year from our present location. Would you like us to plot a course to investigate?"

"What do you mean by unusual?"

"The spectrographic profile shows particularly strong sulphur and iron lines. Also the temperature profiles suggests the degenerate core at the centre is hotter than you would expect of a planetary nebula of this size."

"Sounds like astrometrics will have a field day with this one. Set a course, warp 4. Notify me when we arrive."

"Understood, Captain. T'Pol out."

Archer thumbed the comm off.

"Coolly handled, Cap'n!" said Trip with a mischievous grin. Jon didn't return it.

"We were lucky it wasn't anything critical!" Trip got up and sat next to Jon.

"You could've been in the shower or asleep, hell you coulda been masturbatin' when she called. No one expects you to be on duty every minute of the day."

"I guess you're right," Jon sighed. "Do you think she knew?"

Trip rolled his eyes.

"I know Vulcan's got enhanced senses but they ain't that enhanced." He pulled off his vest and stood up to pull off his boxers. "C'mon, we got some time before we need to report to our posts as proper little officers, just like Malcolm." Jon couldn't help but notice the bitter tone when Trip said the armoury officer's name. He didn't have time to dwell on it before Trip pulled him into a kiss.

He pulled the older man down onto the bed, wrapping his legs around Jon's hips pulling their groins into contact. Their ardour, which had been cooled by T'Pol's interruption, came back fiercly as they rubbed against each other.

"Need you in me," Trip whispered as he nibbled Jon's ear. Jon got the lube and prepared Trip as carefully as ever.

"Now, Jon!" demanded Trip as the pleasure Jon induced in him threatened to fry his brain. He moaned lustily as he felt Jon's hard length, silk sheathed steel, slowly and torturously enter him.

Jon started thrusting at a hard, rapid pace, trapping Trip's cock between their stomachs. Neither of them could last long with Trip's legs urging Jon deeper into him, both men vocal about expressing their both hit their peak, Jon coming deep inside the younger man as Trip exploded between them. Jon rolled off the other man and went to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up.

When Jon came back in, Trip got up and dressed himself.

"I'm gonna go back to my quarters." He gave Jon a quick kiss. "See ya at breakfast?"

"Sure, good night, Trip."

* * *

Jon got back into bed, comforted by the smell of his lover. They rarely spent the night together so Jon liked having that small reminder of Trip's presence, especially as he replayed their love making in his head. It seemed that since Malcolm had told Trip he knew about them, he and Trip's relationship had changed, Trip becoming more affectionate when they were alone together, more loving.

When they were next back on Earth, he was determined to take Trip away somewhere, preferably a log cabin somewhere nice and isolated. It would be nice for the two of them to be free from looking over their shoulder, worrying if someone would figure things out. And maybe Jon would find it in himself to ask Trip whether he loved him. A small beacon of hope had been lit within him that maybe Trip did love him, but Jon didn't want to push him into a declaration.

There were still things that bothered him, small nagging doubts about how Trip truly felt. He had started to wonder why Trip always bottomed, he'd never once asked Jon if he could take him. The thought of Trip penetrating him was intensely erotic and he wouldn't refuse him if he asked, but he simply wasn't sure how to broach the subject.

What bothered him more than that was how Trip always seemed to tell Jon what he wanted to hear. Trip had always been always forthright, sometimes too much, his mouth often getting him into trouble and when on duty, Trip had no issue with telling Jon if he disagreed with him. However in the privacy of their quarters he didn't. Admittedly, on a personal level Trip and Jon were very like minded, and rarely argued but there were times that they did argue, loudly. They even got into a fist fight once, during the testing of the prototype warp 5 engine, when the stress and their tempers got the better of them. There was none of that now. It seemed almost as if Trip was trying too hard to please him and it was affecting the easy friendship they once shared. Trip, now more than ever, was presenting himself as his lover first and his best friend second. And a traitorous little voice inside him wondered if that was really what he wanted.


	11. Chapter 11

**Post Ep 'Cogenitor'**

Trip left the ready room, crossing the bridge to the turbolift, feeling as though all eyes were on him. He felt flayed, on display, Jon's words taking him apart. He felt sick when he thought of Charles and how desperate it must have felt to be returned to the Vissians. So desperate that death was better than going back to its old life.

Blindly he made his way to his quarters, feeling his eyes burn with tears of grief and anger but he couldn't let them fall, he didn't deserve the release that his tears would give him.

He didn't bother turning the light on, just stumbled his way to the bed and curled up on it, holding himself as Jon's words scoured him, echoing in his brain.

_A person is dead - a person who'd still be alive if we hadn't made first contact._

He cringed, remembering Jon chastising him for his impulsiveness, for saying he'd done what the captain would have done.

_Maybe this will teach you a lesson…_

Except it was _Charles_ paying the price for his thoughtlessness. He'd been so full of good intentions, so convinced that he had to intervene to correct an injustice and now it had blown up in his face. He wouldn't be surprised if the captain kicked him off the ship at the first opportunity. The tears he tried to keep back began to fall, despite his attempts to restrain them. He tried to ignore them, refused to let them given him any kind of relief. He lay there for some time, his pillow cold and damp, not knowing how he could move from this spot, from this room and face anyone on the ship again. But he'd have to, he couldn't hide away; he was a senior officer and the chief engineer of this ship and _Enterprise_ needed him. As for the captain…

He sighed, perhaps this would finally end his relationship with Jon, only there would be nearly ten years of friendship going with it. He recalled the anger and disappointment in Jon's eyes as he tore into his wayward officer. It seemed likely that, along with the cogenitor, he'd killed Jon's love as well. Ironic when he thought about it. Just at the point when he realised that he could let go of his pointless fantasies about Malcolm Reed and let himself fall in love with Jon instead.

The door chime rang, startling him. He ignored it, not wanting to face whoever was there, afraid it was Jon coming to rail at him some more. The door chime rang again, though. Sensing whoever it was wasn't going to give up, he got up, wiped his face with his sleeve and opened the door control, turning on the light. To his surprise and mortification it was T'Pol.

"May I come in?" she asked, all politeness.

"You come to gimme your two cents worth?" he said as he gestured her in, his voice roughened with grief.

"I see no logic in covering ground that the captain has gone over," she said. "I merely came to ascertain your condition and to inform you that the captain has relieved you of duty for the next twenty four hours. You are confined to quarters for the duration."

"Consider me informed," he said curtly. "Now I'd appreciate you leavin' me alone."

She looked at him and to his surprise he saw something like compassion in her eyes.

"I grieve with thee, Commander," she said quietly. "The cogenitor's death was regrettable and unforeseen. I do not believe you should blame yourself for its actions."

"I don't agree, Subcommander," he said. "I showed it something it could never have, something it would never have known about if I hadn't stuck my oar in. You tried to warn me and I didn't listen!"

"I also bear responsibility for Charles' death, I had been left in charge of the ship and in charge of you. I failed in my duty to impress upon you the inadvisability of your actions."

"Since, when have I ever listened to you, T'Pol?" he said with a ghost of a smile. "Since when has the captain?"

T'Pol didn't answer, merely looked at him.

"You're not to blame," he said sadly. "Only me and the Vissians."

"The cogenitor made a choice, it could have been an influence on its culture and helped improve the lot of its gender. Instead it chose to take its life, with no regard for the effect on others." Trip was surprised at how forceful T'Pol sounded. He wondered if Vulcans found the notion of suicide morally repugnant.

Trip didn't argue. Usually he enjoyed verbally sparring with the Vulcan woman but right now, he didn't have the energy. He simply grasped on to the small consolation that at least one person didn't blame him.

"I will leave you to your thoughts, Commander." She opened the door and stood regarding him. "When you return to duty, the captain has asked that you remain in engineering until further notice, or your presence is required elsewhere." In other words, stay out of the captain's way. He nodded, unsurprised. "I'm… sorry for your loss." She looked at him levelly and he knew without a doubt she wasn't referring to Charles. She left and the door closed, leaving him more alone that he had ever felt before.

* * *

Jon sat in his quarters, trying to drink away the feelings of anger and betrayal when he thought of Trip. He couldn't bear to see him, his anger at the younger man threatening to consume him. He'd even sent T'Pol to confine the engineer to his quarters, to tell him to stay away from him. This should have been a golden opportunity for him, a first contact with a more advanced species and it was going so damn well until Trip decided to go in head first into a situation he couldn't properly comprehend. He wouldn't be surprised if it was the last time the Vissians made contact with Earth.

Yet a feeling that Trip was right nagged at him. Gender equality was a basic human right on Earth and something only recently achieved. Surely it was a mark of moral advancement that all people are treated equally? As much as T'Pol cautioned him not to judge by Earth Human standards, surely there is some things which all sentient beings have in common, the respect for life? He recalled having a similar discussion with Trip after their rescue from the prison transport taking them to Canamar. Perhaps there was a lesson they had failed to learn.

Still it didn't change the fact that Trip had been told not to interfere, that he behaved with arrogance thinking he knew what was best for this alien he'd only just met. Yet he'd said himself that he must have set a bad example for his officer, for his crew. They'd been out here for nearly two years and they'd made plenty of mistakes. It wasn't the first time someone on the ship had fucked up. Perhaps he hadn't been enough of a disciplinarian with the crew, lord knows Lieutenant Reed had castigated the captain for his laid back attitude to command, in being a friend to the crew.

He realised he had been too complacent during this contact, too eager to go off with the Vissian captain to explore the hypergiant, when they knew so little about the species. If he had stayed, found out more about the species maybe he could have prevented this tragedy. He certainly would've done a better job of reining Trip in.

Now, it had blown up in his face, forcing him to discipline severely the man he loved, throwing up in sharp relief just how ill advised it was to fall in love with someone under his command. Now he would have to take that love and bury it, to never see the light of day again.

It wasn't as if Trip had really wanted it anyway.

* * *

And yet days later, when his anger had cooled, Jon found himself letting himself into the engineer's quarters, knowing the man was likely to be asleep. He hadn't seen him since he'd bawled him out, Trip had hidden himself in engineering, working double shifts, avoiding the mess hall and the gym at times he knew the captain was likely to be there.

Trip was asleep, though the way he was tangled in the sheets spoke of a restless night, as did the slight frown that marred the boyish features.

Jon watched him from the desk chair, unsure what to do when Trip began moving violently in his sleep, his arms lashing out at something that only his rapidly moving eyes below closed lids could see.

"So sorry, sorry, please, no, I didn't, JON!"

The last word was a shout so loud, it woke the sleeping man up. Jon stayed still as the engineer sat upright and jolted when he registered the presence in his room.

"Cap'n!" He clutched at the sheets, his blue eyes wide with confusion and fear.

Jon reached out, gently catching the younger man by the shoulder. He spoke softly to the engineer.

"It's okay, Trip."

"Whaddaya doing here?" Trip scrubbed at his face then looked warily at the captain.

"I wanted to see you... See if you were okay."

"Didn't think you cared any more." The tone was faintly accusatory and Jon bristled at it.

"That's not fair, Trip! You screwed up, what the hell did you expect me to do?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

Jon was nonplussed at this. Seeing his confusion, Trip spoke again.

"Do you want me off your ship?"

"No!" The word exploded out of Jon. He took a deep breath. "She's as much yours as she is mine," he continued, his voice soft.

Trip looked down and drew his knees up to rest his chin on them.

"I've had some time to think about recent events," said Jon. "I stand by what I said… I don't know what I would've done if I'd been here, but then maybe that was the point. I wasn't and I should've been. I just got so swept away by the possibilities of Vissian technology that I made assumptions about the wisdom of our contact with them. It was wrong of me to lay all the blame on you."

Trip looked up at this point.

"Cap'n, you were doin' exactly what we're s'posed to be doin', explorin', meetin' new people, makin' new friends. I gotta be honest with you though, if I had ta do it all again, I don't think I'd would've done anythin' different."

"But maybe I would have."

Trip stared at the captain, then looked away.

Jon got up and moved to sit next to Trip on the bed. Tenderly he cupped Trip's cheek, turning his face back to him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I love you but…it's over between us. I've lost my objectivity when it comes to you. I can't let it any more. We should have left our friendship back in space dock."

Trip let out a sigh. He'd thought it was over anyway but Jon stating it out loud gave it a finality that cut into his heart.

"I'm sorry too, Jon," he said. "Sorry that I let you down, so sorry that it's taken me this long to realise-" He stopped and pulled away.

"I think you need to go now, Cap'n. 'Fore I say somethin' that I know I'll regret."

Jon was shaken by this statement. What was Trip trying to say? Instead of getting up he pulled Trip into his arms. There was a moment of a resistance then the younger man sank into his arms. He kissed the top of the blond head then tilted Trip's face up so he could kiss his lips one last time. He pressed his lips against the engineer's and he was taken aback with how passionately Trip responded. Jon felt his determination to leave melt away as he eagerly returned the passion.

Abruptly he pulled away, shocked.

"No, it's too late for this," he said standing up. "You're going to have to stand on your own now, Trip. I'm your captain and I can't be your friend or your lover or your crutch."

"Jon, no-" The distress in the younger man's voice tore at his soul. He got up and hit the door control.

"Goodbye, Trip."

Before he could protest further, the captain left, fleeing to the safety of his own quarters, almost tripping over Porthos who had run up to greet his master. He picked the dog up and sat on the bed, stroking him, while the eager pup licked his face, sensing his master's heartbreak.

Over and over, one thing ran through his mind; _Why is it now that I find out that you truly love me, Trip?_

It didn't matter now. It was far too late.

* * *

**A/N Complete but I might do a sequel. Now I'm off to write a nice, fluffy, Trip & Malcolm Finale Fix. **


	12. Epilogue

**Special thanks for Serit for her insights into the story that have helped me formulate more ideas for this epilogue and a sequel! Cap'n Frances, I hope this is a little more satisfactory for you :D**

* * *

**Post Ep 'Regeneration'**

"Bit of a mess, Commander!" said Malcolm, as he and Trip examined the damage first left by the cybernetic organisms, then by their efforts to disrupt the circuitry to regain their weapons ability.

"Have I ever told you you're a master of understatement?" replied Trip dryly. He picked up a probe and started prodding at the singed circuit boards. "The whole lot's gonna have to come out, I'll need to get some new boards fabricated." He started writing notes into a PADD for what he needed.

"We can rig a bypass in the meantime," said Malcolm thoughtfully. Trip put the PADD down and they got to work. Once they finished with their temporary repairs, Trip picked up the PADD again.

"Gonna drop this off at engineering then grab some dinner. You joining me, Lieutenant?"

"If you like," came the reply. He looked as if he was going to say something else but refrained. "Twenty minutes? I intend to shower first." Trip nodded back at him and they parted ways.

Malcolm got to the mess just before Trip did, waiting politely for him so they could get their food together. They sat down and started to eat. Just as they did so, the captain entered, talking intently with T'Pol. Malcolm saw Archer's eyes rest briefly on Trip before he looked away and quickly moved across the room to enter his mess, T'Pol, who nodded a brief greeting to Malcolm and Trip, close at his heel.

The British man turned his attention to Trip, who was smiling slightly. He was about say something when he noticed that the smile didn't reach Trip's eyes. Eyes that were filled with hurt. Lowering his voice, he spoke softly to his friend.

"Is everything alright, Commander?"

Trip realised Malcolm was looking at him and his expression changed so quickly to his usual expression of geniality, Malcolm began to think he imagined what he'd seen.

"Jus' peachy. Lieutenant. Say, I've got a nice bottle of Auchentoshen Triple Distilled that my brother bought me last time I was on Earth, fancy breaking it open with me?"

Malcolm was impressed at Trip's flawless pronunciation of the Scottish town. The Southerner never ceased to surprise him.

"If you're sure, sir?"

"Absolutely, I wouldn't wanta share it with anyone else. Least I know you 'preciate a good scotch."

They finished their meal, though Malcolm noted Trip didn't seem to have much of an appetite. On the way to Trip's quarters, Malcolm thought back to the mess hall. The captain appeared to have blanked his lover and best friend. He realised it had been going on a while, that although they were perfectly cordial on duty, there was none of their usual teasing banter. Trip no longer joined the captain in his mess and they didn't seem to spend any time together outside of their respective duties. _Ever since the Vissians_.

He'd been there on the bridge when, a few days after they and the Vissians had parted ways, Archer had summoned Tucker into his ready room. The whole bridge heard Archer's muffled rantings at his chief engineer, though they couldn't make out what was said. Then they'd all seen Tucker stumble out of the room, looking thoroughly beaten down. T'Pol, who after speaking to Archer in his ready room, had gone to relieve Tucker of duty and confine him to quarters. Yet there was no explanation as to why. Malcolm knew something had gone wrong, something to do with the Vissian cogenitor Tucker had befriended, but not the details. It seemed odd that Archer had waited several days to reprimand Tucker for his conduct.

He'd tried to talk to him but the engineer had refused to discuss it. All he knew was that before Tucker had been summoned, they had received a private communication for the captain from the Vissian ship. Since then, no one dared mention the Vissians in the captain's earshot and Trip spent virtually all of his duty shifts in engineering.

They entered the engineer's quarters and Trip opened a cupboard, pulling out a bottle. Breaking the seal, he poured a generous measure into a couple of glasses Malcolm had found in the head.

"To never seeing those cyborgs in our lifetime!" Trip tapped his glass against Malcolm's, who echoed his toast.

They both drank, savouring the citrusy whisky, with afternotes of oak and vanilla.

"Your brother has good taste!" remarked Malcolm, after finishing his drink.

"Collecting scotch whisky is a hobby of his. He dragged me to a whisky tasting a few years ago, got me hooked on the stuff. Want another?" He gestured with the bottle.  
"Please." Malcolm held out his glass and Trip topped them both up.

They sat in silence, Trip on the bed, Malcolm at the desk.

"Comm- Trip, you can tell me to mind my own business… but is everything alright with you and the captain?"

Trip didn't say anything at first, just stared into his glass.

When he looked back up at Malcolm, he saw the engineer's blue eyes filled with sadness.

"The captain and me are fine… Jon and me, well it's over. He dumped me."

"I'm sorry, Trip, I truly am." And he was, sorry that Trip had gotten hurt.

"It's for the best, I think. You were right about us, I just didn't want to face the truth. It's jus' that I miss him. Not so much the sex-"

"I don't think I want to know about that, Trip," Malcolm interjected.

"Sorry!" The engineer grinned sheepishly. "I miss his friendship. I missed the closeness we once had, the feeling he was always looking out for me, always there for me."

"That's understandable. You've been friends a long time, haven't you?"

"Nearly ten years. Met him back when we were trying to break the warp 2 barrier. Nearly got cashiered out of the service 'cause o' him. It all worked out in the end though."

"Sounds like there is a good story behind that!" Malcolm commented, looking at Trip curiously.

"One day, I'll tell you 'bout it. Jus' not today." Without asking, Trip topped the glasses back up; Malcolm drank some, now feeling slightly light headed. Not surprising, the whisky was fairly potent.

"Will you tell me what happened with the Vissians? I'm afraid I was somewhat... distracted." He blushed when he thought of Veylo. She'd come onto him strongly and he'd responded, charmed by her obvious interest in his heavy weaponry.

"The cogenitor killed itself," said Trip, abruptly.

"Oh no," whispered Malcolm, horrified.

"Jon blamed me, said I drove Charles to it."

"I'm so sorry, Trip, I had no idea. Who else knows?'

"Jus' T'Pol. Actually she was pretty sympathetic. She helped me realise that I shouldn't just blame myself." He let out a short laugh. "I wondered if the cap'n only told T'Pol 'cause he figured I get sympathy off any of the rest of the crew 'cept her. Guess he doesn't know her as well as he think he does.

"So there you go, Jon goes off and plays hotshot pilot, you get laid and I kill someone."

He swallowed his drink down.

"Trip-"

"You don't have to say anything, Malcolm. It's done and I've made my peace with it as best I can."

They sat in silence a few minutes and just as Malcolm thought he should leave, Trip spoke again, an odd glimmer in his eyes.

"So was it good?"

"What do you mean?" Malcolm looked at Trip in confusion.

"The Vissian woman... what was her name, Vayla? Was she good in bed?"

"Veylo," Malcolm corrected automatically. "And that's none of your business, Commander!"

Trip smirked and Malcolm felt his cheeks grow warm. _It's the alcohol, _he tried to convince himself.

"You do realise you've now fucked more alien babes than me."

Malcolm was caught by surprise.

"I thought-"

"And so did everyone else but I can tell you the only person who I've had sex with since we left space dock is one Captain Jonathan Archer." Trip stared at Malcolm intently, as if he was testing his reaction to him discussing his intimate relationship with the captain.

Malcolm squirmed slightly, not liking to think of his CO in that context. But there was also an undercurrent of jealousy to his discomfort as his mind once again supplied images of the two senior officers together. _Stop it,_ he told himself firmly.

"Course, I don't count Ah'len, since I didn't know we were havin' sex."

Trip knocked back the rest of his drink and Malcolm realised the engineer was by now pretty drunk. Unsurprising as he'd eaten little of his dinner and probably skipped lunch as well.

"Wanna know how we got together the first time?"

Malcolm didn't and started to get up, to excuse himself, determined this time he had to leave.

"Siddown, Lieutenant!" Trip snarled and topped the glasses up though Malcolm resolved to drink no more.

"Ya gotta hear this, it's a great story."

"Commander, I think you may regret this-"

"Maybe, but I don't care. You see, it was after Natalie dumped me, went 'round to the cap'n's quarters for some sympathy. He got me drunk and seduced me. Not that I minded, cap'n's always excelled at whatever he does."

Malcolm schooled his expression into one of calm but inside he was angry and disappointed with Archer.

"Course we knew it weren't a good idea to continue, couldn't have folks back home finding out that Starfleet's poster boy was fuckin' his chief engineer could we?"

He laughed then, sounding to Malcolm as if he was on the verge of tears. He desperately wanted to escape, not wanting to hear any more but was frozen in place by a pair of desperate, pain filled, blue eyes.

"He was my first... I fooled around with other guys back on Earth but Jon was the first to take me up the ass." He smiled as Malcolm looked uncomfortable.

"Sorry Mal, think I 'fended your British sensa- sensi, aw shit, you know what I mean. Guessing you won't want a blow by blow account."

"Please don't," Malcolm said, his voice strained. His imagination could more than adequately provide the details.

"We shoulda left it at that but no, Jon has to tell me that he _loves_ me."

Trip got up and started pacing the room, not noticing Malcolm surreptitiously moving the bottle, now three quarters empty, out of view.

"Then he drags me down onto that damn desert planet when he knows I hate deserts. But I do it 'cause he's my best friend and I never could say no to him. Only we nearly gets killed and he's jus' about cut up about it."

Malcolm remembered it clearly, the captain clinging to Trip in the shuttlepod, begging him to stay awake. Despite needing medical help himself he remained glued to the engineer's side until Phlox pronounced him stable.

"And he tells me again he loves me so I let him take me to bed. Only this time he says it ain't a one night comfort fuck, he wants more."

He paused, seeing Malcolm's untouched drink and before he could stop him, Trip had downed it.

"I think you've had enough, Commander," said Malcolm standing up and glaring at his friend.

"I ain't had nearly enough!"

Malcolm stared at his friend, realising Trip needed this, needed to get what he'd kept bottled up for weeks out in the open. He just wished Trip had chosen someone else. It hurt hearing Trip talking about this, hurt because in spite of his better judgement he'd succumbed to the Southerner's charms, allowed him to creep behind the walls he'd put up to protect himself. He couldn't blame the captain for falling for Trip, not when he was doing so himself.

"You didn't want it, did you?" he said. "But you couldn't say no to your best friend."

Trip sat back down on his bed, buried his head in his hands.

"I wish I had. But I didn't want to lose Jon as a friend. Except I've lost him anyway, because I screwed up. The worse thing is, he told me he still loved me and I thought maybe I did love him and I tried to tell him but it was too late!"

"Do you love him?" The words came out before he could stop them.

Trip looked up and Malcolm saw the tears glistening in his eyes. Malcolm sat next to him, putting a tentative hand on the engineer's shoulder.

"No, I don't," he said after a short pause. "I think I was just scared to be without him. Fuck, I'm pathetic! I'm the Goddamned chief engineer of Earth's first warp five starship and I'm pining for Jon like a little kid who's lost his mama!"

Malcolm regarded the engineer carefully. He now understood something very fundamental about the man, something Trip didn't even know himself. Trip had always had someone supporting him, first his close knit family who he talked about often, then Jon. Now he had no one, Jon had cast him off and his family was light years away.

"And I've never met a finer engineer, Trip. You belong here, Enterprise needs you and you have proved enough times that you are a fine officer."

Malcolm got up, picked up the empty glasses and went into the head. He rinsed both the glasses out, filling one with water.

"Drink this," he instructed. Trip tried to protest but Malcolm silenced him with a glare. He drank the water and Malcolm refilled the glass, made Trip drink that down as well.

"Go to bed," he said firmly. "I'll come by and check on you in the morning. You're going to have one hell of a hangover." He knelt down next to Trip, who was looking subdued by Malcolm's forcefulness.

Trip slowly started to remove his boots, though seeing he was struggling with the fastenings, Malcolm helped him. It ended up with him helping Trip to strip out of his uniform, the engineer's hands shaking. He suppressed a wry smile at the thought that he didn't expect to end the night putting the other man to bed. Then suppressed even more firmly the thought that if the circumstances were different he might enjoy parting Trip from his uniform.

"Good night, Commander," he said softly as Trip buried himself under the covers. He reached out a hand to stroke the blond head, but suddenly snatched his hand away. He saw himself out and went back to his quarters, suddenly feeling very sober and drained of energy.

He stripped off and got into bed. Despite the alcohol he'd drunk and his exhaustion, he tossed and turned, replaying Trip's outpouring in his head. He was conflicted, relieved that Jon and Trip's relationship was over, knowing it wasn't in either men's or the ship's best interests, angry because he'd lost some respect for the captain, seeing how he'd manipulated Trip then discarded him when his lover's mistake threw into sharp relief the captain's own shortcomings.

He was confused as well about his own friendship with the engineer, knowing he was attracted to him. One thing was for certain was that he would expect Trip to look for someone else to replace Jon in his life. It made it even more important for Malcolm to keep his distance, knowing that he would be doing the engineer a grave disservice by allowing himself to be used as another crutch. But he couldn't turn his back on him completely, Trip desperately needed a friend right now and at the very least he wanted that friendship, even if it couldn't turn into anything more. It was a balancing act that he wasn't sure he could pull off. But for the sake of his friend he was willing to try.

* * *

Jon at in his quarters, staring at a glass of bourbon that he'd poured half an hour ago. He was thinking about his conversation with T'Pol over dinner. Not long after he had ended his relationship with Trip, he'd confessed all to T'Pol. He'd expected, hell he _wanted,_ her to condemn him, to rain down her superior judgement, as he presented proof of human's inferiority to Vulcans but she had not. Instead she informed him that she had suspected the relationship for some time, having spent some time observing closely the interactions of the crew. She had agreed that although she was confident he had not allowed his relationship with the engineer affect his command ability, he had made the right decision in ending it. She was also quick to reassure him that although homosexual relations were unheard of on Vulcan, she understood that as human sexuality differed vastly from Vulcan, it was perfectly normal within the range of human behaviour and so had no prejudice against him because of it.

However this evening she ventured to ask him about whether he would resume the friendship he and Trip had, citing her concern for ship's morale as other crew members had observed the cooling of the easy relationship he and Trip had once shared.

"I have observed Commander Tucker performs another function in this crew, beyond his role as Chief Engineer," she had said. "I have often discussed crew behaviour with Doctor Phlox and the term he used was 'Unofficial Morale Officer'. Phlox has explained to me that the efficiency ratings of the crew can be affected if they are 'unhappy'. It is something I find quite illogical however, it is clearly something that is very much a human trait and should therefore be treated with importance. Much value is placed on 'happiness' in your culture. Commander Tucker is the type of person who induces happiness in the people around him. Although I find him illogical, overly emotional and impulsive, I have observed that he has a positive effect on the people around him."

Jon knew exactly what she meant. Trip had a way of drawing people in, with his gregarious manner. His crew worshipped him, not just because he was an excellent engineer but he treated every member of his team as vital, was liberal with praise and never asked anyone to do anything he wasn't prepared to do himself. His occasional blow ups of temper were easily forgiven as he was always gracious in admitting a mistake and never held a grudge. It was a major part of why Jon fell for him in the first place.

But now he had changed, although Jon had avoided him off duty as much as possible, he'd seen that Trip's light had been dampened, he didn't draw attention to himself, rarely mixing with the rest of the crew as he used to do. T'Pol had expressed concern that the crew had picked up on Tucker's apparent change in personality, having heard other members of the crew expressing concern for the commander.

He realised T'Pol was right; the crew looked to him and the rest of the senior staff for moral support on the ship and it was unsurprising their moods could affect the rest of the crew. There had been a pall over the ship ever since the botched contact with the Vissians. Funny how it took an apparently unemotional Vulcan to point out something that should've been obvious to him.

T'Pol had made a suggestion; there was a system less than a day away at warp 3, uninhabited but had a Minshara class planet. The Vulcans had explored it but it was too far from their other colonies to make it viable for colonisation, although it did offer a pleasant environment. She suggested that a stop for shore leave would be beneficial for the crew, citing the rise in efficiency ratings following their shore leave on Risa.

He shook his head. _T'Pol will never cease to surprise me_, he thought as he relayed instructions to the bridge, to change course for the system she'd suggested. He knew he had to do something to change things. Somehow he and Trip had to get back the friendship they once had, even though Jon's feelings for his friend had not changed. He still loved him but he knew that the past year he had with Trip was all he would ever have. He would hide the pain of his broken heart and hope that given time it would heal. The ship and the crew depended on it.

* * *

Trip woke up the next morning, feeling as if something had died in his mouth and he'd been hit by an asteroid. Forcing himself out of bed, he got a glass of water and some hangover pills and swallowed them down. Not too long after he started feeling vaguely human again. He looked down at himself, not remembering taking off his uniform. He stripped off his underwear, walked into the head and turned the shower on. Stepping in he tried to recall what exactly happened the previous night.

_Oh, shit!_ He thought as the memories came flooding back. He'd gotten wasted last night, thinking remorsefully of the expensive whisky his brother had bought him. Then he'd spilled his guts to Malcolm. He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist just as heard the door chime.

"Who is it?" he said, flicking on the comm.

"Lieutenant Reed, sir. Could I come in?"

Trip hit the door button and Malcolm entered.

"I came to see if you were alright, Commander."

"Better than I was when I woke up," Trip said with a wry smile, which quickly disappeared as he noticed Malcolm avoiding looking at him. "Look, Malcolm, I'm real sorry about last night, I had no right to dump all that shit on you."

"It's fine… Trip. Let's just agree to never mention it again." Trip nearly winced at the stiffness in the younger man's voice. He cringed inwardly when he remembered talking about his and Jon's sex life. He managed to muster up another smile anyway.

"Thanks, Mal, I 'preciate it." He glanced at his computer and realised the message light was flashing.

"Jus' a sec," he said as he quickly checked his messages. He was surprised; it seemed the captain wanted him to come to breakfast. In ten minutes!

"Would you excuse me, Malcolm?" he said, quickly pulling clothes out of his closet. "I've got a meeting in ten minutes." He hoped Malcolm wouldn't ask more; he didn't feel comfortable talking about the captain after last night's big reveal.

"Of course, sir. Perhaps we could meet later for lunch?"

Trip looked at him in surprise.

"If you're sure? You don't have to?"

Malcolm looked at him steadily, a small smile on his lips that made Trip's heart skip a beat. Their eyes met and Trip saw the warmth in them.

"I'll look forward to it." He nodded briskly and turned to the door. "1230?"

"Yeah okay," replied Trip. He paused briefly. "We're okay aren't we?" He asked, anxiously.

"Yes, Trip, I believe we are," replied Malcolm. He reached out and patted Trip on the arm. Trip was touched; the British man had an almost Denobulan dislike for casual physical contact.  
"Until lunch, then." Malcolm nodded and let himself out.

Trip entered the captain's mess with not a little trepidation. He'd not spent any time in his former lover's company off duty since the night Jon had come around to finish things with him.

"Glad you could make it, Trip," Jon said with apparent sincerity. "T'Pol won't be joining us."

"Okay, Cap'n." Trip sat down and when the stewards brought their breakfast in they began to eat. Jon then proceeded to tell about Trip about the ship's destination.

"We'll be arriving in a couple of hours," said Jon, "I'm going to authorise shore leave of twenty four hours for everyone, we'll be staying in the neighbourhood for four days, we'll be doing a survey on the system as well. Could you talk to T'Pol about setting up a rota before you head to engineering?"

"That's great, I'm sure everyone will appreciate it," said Trip, grinning. "Bit of fresh air would be nice. Jus' hoping for no bugs or freaky pollen!"

Jon laughed, happy to see the genuine smile on his friend's face.

"When you do the rota, make sure you have us going down together," he instructed.

Trip tensed, not sure if he wanted to spend time alone with the man who had seduced him then dumped him. Jon looked at him, pleading with his green eyes.

"I just want us to spend some time together talking, I want us to be friends again. I know it won't be the same as before we-" he hesitated and looked away. "Before I wrecked everything."

"Sure thing, Cap'n." Trip said. He badly wanted Jon's friendship again but he just wasn't sure if he entirely trusted him. But he was willing to give him a try.

"That's agreed then!" Jon smiled, looking happier than he had done for several weeks.

"I'd better find T'Pol," said Trip, wiping his mouth on a napkin and getting up.

"Thanks, Trip."

Trip left feeling a little lighter. He'd hated the distance that had developed between him and Jon, but had no idea how to even try to mend things. But now it seemed the captain had made that first step. And Malcolm, despite the embarrassing revelations of last night, was still his friend. Things seemed to be looking up once more.

* * *

**A/N There will be a sequel to this "What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?" More angst but hopefully a happy ending. Remember, 'Everything Changes in the the Expanse'**


End file.
